


Nothing Is As It Appears

by PensToTheEnd



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Always a Happy Ending, Blackmail, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Faked Death, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23253190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PensToTheEnd/pseuds/PensToTheEnd
Summary: In 2014, Patrick meets a girl.  Patrick gets girl pregnant.  Jon just wants Patrick to be happy.  Then Jon learns the truth about what is going on.  He worries about what Patrick might do.In 2015, they win the Cup.  Despite all the shit going on in their personal lives, Jon thinks things are going to work out for them.  Then, the unthinkable happens and Patrick is gone.In 2020, Jon learns again that nothing is as it appears.  He learns it from Patrick.
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews, Patrick Kane/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 110
Kudos: 89





	1. Just Like Yesterday

June 2020

It happened the night after their cup parade. Friday, June 19, 2015, to be exact. The date, the day, everything forever burned into Jonathan Toews’ memory. 

The day he lost Patrick Kane.

Not a day went by that Jon didn’t think about Patrick, about that season, about that day. He still couldn’t figure out what had happened, how it had all gone so wrong. The biggest questions that haunted him were the ones that the press, the tabloids, everyone had harped on for so long when it happened. Was it just an accident? Why had Patrick’s body never been found?

Five years after that horrible day, Jonathan Toews was about to get the answers to his questions.

From none other than Patrick Kane himself.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

September 2014

Training camp was starting tomorrow. Jon was excited. They’d won two cups in the last five seasons and this team, on paper anyway, certainly looked like a team that could win the cup this season. They were stacked. And Patrick? Well Patrick looked to be on the verge of a breakout year with the Hawks. 

When Jon saw him for the first time since the end of the season Patrick looked… different. More mature? In better shape? Jon couldn’t pinpoint it, but he liked what he was seeing. Patrick looked good.

Patrick had also sauntered into the United Center and announced his return with an air of confidence and a swagger Jon hadn’t seen last season. He liked that, too.

“Boom baby!” He’d exclaimed at Jon. “I’m back!”

“Hey!” Jon had looked up, a wide grin spreading across his face when as he took in the site of Patrick Kane.

Patrick was sporting a deep, late-summer tan that made the starkness of his sun-bleached blonde locks really stand out. His hair was shorter than it had been, the bounce of curls trimmed close. Jon wasn’t sure he liked that part. Patrick was wearing a bright, flowery shirt and baggy shorts. 

“Miss me, Tazer?” He walked over and ruffled Jon’s hair, what there was of it, before he sat down in his stall in the changing room 

“Not a bit.” Jon lied. He tried to act nonchalant about it, afraid the blush that he could feel warming his face would give him away. He bent forward and went back to untying his sneakers to hide his reaction.

“Aw,” Patrick whined, “you didn’t? Betting Sharpy did? Where is he?”

“Hey Peekaboo!” Came Sharpy’s familiar voice from somewhere nearby. A few seconds later, he stuck his head around the corner of a doorway. “Yes, I missed you. Welcome back, Patty.”

Patrick smiled gleefully. “See, Tazer. Told ya.”

Jon looked over at Patrick, who was standing and stripping out of his shorts. He’d already taken his shirt off. 

Jon froze. 

Damn. 

Patrick had evidently spent time that summer building muscle and putting on weight. He was trim, and muscular, and tanned, and…

Jon swallowed hard. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

June 2020

“Fuck you, Peeks.” Jon said harshly, staring down at the dark slab of granite that marked where it happened. “Fuck you.”

He reached down and put his hand on the top of the stone. It wasn’t a bit marker. The only things engraved on the smooth front were Patrick’s name, his birthdate, and the day it happened.

“I miss you.” He said softly, fondly. “God, I miss you.”

He’d come here every year, on the day, to the shores of Lake Erie near Buffalo where the Kane’s had put the stone. It was at the spot where the accident had happened. Again, if it was an accident. Patrick’s SUV had been found, on its roof, in the creek that ran alongside the road. 

Patrick, however, had not been in the vehicle. 

There had been heavy rains for several days before the incident. The creek was swollen to flood stage, the current running swift and strong. Speculation was that Patrick had gotten swept away in the flood waters. His body might never be found, people said.

“If only.” Jon sighed. “Damn it, Peeks. If only you’d stayed in Chicago. If you’d have just stayed with me.”

Jon brought his hand to his face and wiped at the tears forming. He knew it did no good to beat himself up over it. He couldn’t change what happened. Patrick was gone. And, he’d never be able to take back the things he’d said to him. The things Jon said after the parade. The things that had made Patrick leave for Buffalo the next morning.

He couldn’t take any of it back.

And…

He couldn’t tell Patrick what he’d really wanted to tell him that night.

“I loved you.” Jon said and looked to the heavens. “I loved you. Do you hear me? I loved you!”

Jon dropped to his knees, crying uncontrollably. Yeah, it had been five years, but it still hurt like it had happened just yesterday.


	2. The Night That Started It All

October 2014

Halloween was quickly approaching, and the Hawks needed to plan their team party. As captain, Jon took it upon himself to make all the arrangements. He’d found a private venue, hired a DJ, and arranged for a bar and food. Other years, the guys had split the bill for everything, but this year Jon had decided to just foot the bill himself. He was really looking for to this party. He hoped to get some alone time with Patrick.

“Hey, Jonny?” Patrick said from the seat next to Jon on the bus. “What should I dress up as?”

“I thought we could go as Batman and Robin.”

Jon answered without looking up from his phone. He was texting the confirmation on the food menu. When Patrick didn’t respond back, Jon sat back and looked over at him. Patrick’s face was kind of scrunched up in confusion and he looked a bit worried.

“We should what?” Patrick asked.

“Well, I thought we’d go together, since neither of us have a date.”

“I have a date.” Patrick stated coldly. 

“Since when?”

“Since a couple weeks ago.” Patrick grumbled. “Geez, don’t you pay any attention to anything other than hockey?”

“Who is it?” Jon asked politely, even though he didn’t want to know.

“That dark-haired waitress from that new bar we tried. Remember? She gave me her number. I texted her. We’ve gone out a few times. So, I invited her to the party.”

“Oh.” Jon said lowly. 

He felt like someone had kicked him in the gut.

“Maybe I could go as Batman and she could go as like Catwoman or Batgirl or something.” Patrick pulled out his phone and started texting. “I’ll ask her.”

Jon put his phone away and sat in silence, listening to Patrick go on about Brooklyn, that was her name. Brooklyn this and Brooklyn that and Brooklyn whatever.

“So, what does Brook say?” Jon finally asked after several text messages were exchanged. “She gonna be Catwoman?”

“It’s Brooklyn, Jon. Not Brook. She hates it when people call her that.”

“Oh.” Jon sighed. “Sorry.”

“She’s excited. Can’t believe she’s actually dating a hockey player.” Patrick straightened, an extremely smug look on his face. “Well, not just any hockey player, but the Patrick Kane. Her words.”

“Like dating you would be the thrill of anyone’s lifetime.” Jon laughed, trying to cover the hurt. 

Patrick leaned over and put his head on Jon’s shoulder. 

“You’re just jealous you’re not my type, Jonny,” he chuckled, looking up and batting his long eye-lashes at Jon.

“Fuck off.” Jon roughly shrugged his shoulder to make Patrick move. “And it’s Jon. Asshole. I don’t like being called Jonny.”

Patrick laughed loudly. “Right, Jonny. I’ll remember that.”

Jon turned away from Patrick and stared out the window as the bus drove them to their hotel in Montreal. His chest hurt. Patrick’s words, his teasing hurt. It hit too close to the truth. Jon might not be Patrick’s type, but Patrick was every bit Jon’s type. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night of the party was turning into the longest night of Jon’s life. It was torture watching Patrick fawn all over this girl. It was just disgusting the way he was acting. Come on, Jon thought, he hasn’t even been dating her that long.

Patrick had dated a lot of different women since Jon first met him. His girlfriends came and went, never lasting more than a few months. Patrick brushed it off every time a relationship ended, always having a quick excuse as to why things weren’t going to work out. They couldn’t handle Patrick’s fame and career. They were just after his fame and money. Jon’s personal favorite was that the sex just didn’t do it for Patrick. Jon wondered what Patrick meant by that.

But this girl, Brooklyn, Jon has never seen Patrick act so head-over-heals about some girl so quickly before. Maybe this time it was serious.

“Toews, baby, haven’t seen you on the dance floor all night? What gives?” Patrick slides up next to Jon, who’s standing at the bar, and drapes his arm over Jon’s shoulders. “Such a fucking party pooper.”

“I’m just not the dancing type.” Jon raises his glass in a mock toast. “I’m a drinker.”

“Me too.” Patrick grins. He grabs the glass of whiskey out of Jon’s hand and slams it back. “Wow! Smooth.” He coughs out as the whiskey burns his throat on the way down.

“Asshole.”

“Lighten up, Jonny.” Pat lets his weight lean into Jon, resting his head on Jon’s shoulder. “So serious.”

Jon huffs at him, but doesn’t try to move away.

“So serious.” Patrick let’s his arm slip down and his hand rest on Jon’s hip. “I like serious Jonny. He’s… he’s… damn…”

“What?” Jon startles.

“Huh? What what?” Patrick just as suddenly straightens. “Sorry, man. I am so fucking smashed.”

“Uh, no problem, Peeks.” Jon says, unsure of just how drunk Patrick really is.

“Okay. Back to the dancing. Later, Toews.” Patrick bolts back out onto the dance floor and a waiting Brooklyn. Jon orders another drink.

Later, as the party is breaking up and everyone is heading out, Jon watches as Brooklyn is practically carrying a drunk Patrick out the door. Jon’s only ever seen Patrick this wasted a handful of times, namely after the won the cup in 2013 and once at a Hawks New Year’s Party. Drunk Patrick was not a good thing, some highly publicized drunken mistakes were proof. 

“Hey, Brooklyn,” Jon called out to her, “you need some help with him?”

“I got it.” She snapped. “We’re fine.”

That concerned Jon. God, he hoped Patrick was right about bringing her here. He hoped she wasn’t going to do anything to hurt Patrick. He thought about going after them anyway, about stopping her and just taking Patrick home himself.

When he’d think about this night, after the incident, he’d know he should have stopped them. This would be the night that would start all the troubles. The night that would end up costing him Patrick.


	3. Birthday Surprise

Patrick never mentioned the Halloween party over the next few weeks. Actually, Patrick hardly mentioned anything over the next few weeks. 

Jon noticed more than anybody. Patrick seemed withdrawn and distracted, as if his mind was always somewhere besides where he was. Except for when they were on the ice that is, then Patrick was all business. It was as if it was the only time he could escape whatever it was that was bothering him.

Jon tried asking him about things. He took him out for coffee while they were on a road trip in Detroit. Patrick assured Jon everything was just fine. No problems. They started talking about other stuff and for a brief time, Patrick seemed like himself, happy and relaxed.

Jon asked how things were going with Brooklyn. That’s when Patrick got quiet again. Jon watched him drift away, his eyes taking on that glassy, thousand-yard stare.

“Patrick?”

“Peeks.”

Jon reached over an put his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. He felt Patrick recoil under his touch.

“Huh?” Patrick jerked back to the present.

“I asked how things are with Brooklyn. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her since the party.” Jon said. “Must be getting pretty serious, eh?”

“It’s, uh, it’s… yeah… she’s great.” Patrick said coldly, his voice flat and emotionless. He didn’t sound very happy or very convincing to Jon.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine, like I said. It’s just, ya know, new relationship and all, taking a lot of my time.” Patrick took the last sip of his coffee. “We need to get back to the hotel.”

Patrick stood up and waited, impatiently, for Jon to chug down the last gulp of his coffee. He was silent the entire walk back to the hotel. When they got to their rooms, Patrick thanked Jon for the coffee, then went into his room. Jon retreated to his own room which adjoined Patrick’s. He expected Patrick to open the door on his side, but he didn’t. For the first time in years, maybe for the first time ever, they slept in completely separate rooms while on a road trip.

That had been the day before the game in Detroit, November 13. Patrick’s birthday was six days later, on the 19th. The Hawks were flying out that day for a six-game road trip through western Canada, Colorado, and ending in Los Angeles. 

Normally, Patrick would ride to the airport with Jon. This time, he told Jon the Brooklyn would be taking him out to O’Hare. 

Jon parked in his normal spot in the long-term charter area. He saw Patrick’s SUV pull up not far from him. Brooklyn was driving. 

Patrick got out, opened the back and retrieved his bags. He walked around to the driver’s side and said a few things to Brooklyn, then she pulled away. Jon thought it strange that Patrick didn’t give her a kiss good-bye or anything. Patrick usually didn’t shy away from public displays of affection.

“Hey, Peeks.” Jon called over to him.

“Jonny.” Patrick had that withdrawn look that Jon was starting to be more and more concerned about.

“Ready for the big trip?”

“Just jumping for joy.” Patrick gave him a half-hearted grin.

“Happy birthday, by the way. I got you something. Give it to you at the hotel later.”

“Thanks. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know.”

Not that either would admit to being superstitious, but they had gone through this same routine since their rookie year. They’d repeat it for Jon’s birthday. It was their thing, Patrick had told Jon once.

Once the plane took off, Patrick shed his suit jacket and dress shirt and pulled on a hoodie. He stuck his earbuds in and curled up on the seat, his back to Jon. He never moved or said anything until they landed in Calgary.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick carefully unwrapped the box Jon had given him.

“Cool,” he said as the video game case was revealed. “Mario Kart eight.”

“You don’t have, do you?” Jon knew he didn’t. This had also become their thing, Jon getting Patrick the most recent Mario game.

“Nope. Don’t have it.” Patrick smiled. “Thanks.”

“I figured we could break it in, give us something to do on the trip. I brought the system to hook up.”

“Awesome. Yeah, we can definitely play.” Patrick said, looking intently at the box.

“Peeks?”

Patrick put the box down on the bed and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his face in his hands.

“I fucked up, Jonny.” Patrick said quietly into his hands. “I really fucked up this time.”

“What?” Jonny moved from where he was sitting to sit next to Patrick on the edge of the bed. “What happened? Is everything okay with Brooklyn? Your family? What?”

“Brooklyn… she… I… fuck… I fucked up, Jonny.” Patrick sat up. “She’s fucking pregnant.”

“Shit.” Jon swore under his breath. “Unless, that’s a good thing?”

“Uh… what part of I fucked up she’s pregnant would make you think it was a good thing?” Patrick bolted up and walked across the room. He stopped at the window and pulled the curtain back to stare out at the Calgary skyline. “Jesus, Jon. What the fuck am I gonna do?”

“Is it yours?”

Patrick turned around, anger flashing in his blue eyes that Jon would even ask that.

“Sorry, Peeks. But, ya know.”

Patrick’s expression softened. “I don’t know. I think so. She’s not that far along. Thinks it happened the night of the Halloween party. That was the first time…”

“Oh.” Jon nodded. He didn’t want to think about Patrick, drunk Patrick, having sex with some girl. “I, uh, I don’t need any details.”

“I was so fucking wasted.” Patrick sighed, running his hand through his hair. “That’s… never mind… it’s mine. What the fuck am I gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Patrick.” Jon got up and walked over to stand behind Patrick. He rested his hands on Patrick’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. Patrick leaned back against Jon’s chest. “We’ll figure it out. Okay? We’ll figure it out.”

“You know what my Catholic mother is going to say I need to do.” Patrick groaned. “Right after she gets done tanning my ass.”

“Would you do that?” Jon cringed. “Would you marry her?”

“If I don’t want to be disowned by my family, duh, yeah I’d have to marry her.”

“Oh.” Jon felt his whole world going dark, collapsing around him. 

It was one thing to know that he could never be with Patrick the way he wanted. It was another thing to have that fact hit your square in the face.

“Thanks,” Patrick whispered.

“For what?”

“Not getting all wigged out. I knew I could count on you to understand.” Patrick brought his hand up and laid it on Jon’s on his shoulder. “You’ve always got my back, Jonny.”

“Always, Peeks.” Jon’s stomach was churning, though, under Patrick’s soft touch. “When did you find out?”

“Today. This morning.”

“That’s what was wrong, at the airport. You two seemed to be at odds.”

“Yeah. Partly. I just… I don’t know.” Patrick sighed again. “It caught me by surprise, ya know.”

That was an understatement, Jon thought.

“It’s okay. Like I said, we’ll figure it out. Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you. I think you’d actually make a great dad. You’re really good with kids.”

Patrick laughed. “Yeah. I’m so good.”

“Hey, let’s hook up the Nintendo and crash some karts. Take your mind off it for tonight. It’s your birthday. Let’s have some fun, eh.” Jon smiled as he stepped away from Patrick.

“Yeah. Happy fucking birthday to me.”


	4. Say What?

The Hawks spent the next two weeks on the road. Patrick seemed to relax, acting more like his old self. He made Jon swear that he wouldn’t tell anyone about Brooklyn being pregnant. Not until they figured out what he was going to do at least. 

When they got back to Chicago, Brooklyn picked Patrick up at the airport. Jonny watched as there was a brief moment of tension, hesitation, before Patrick opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace. Jon knew in that moment that Patrick had made his decision.

When the Hawks finally got a couple of days off together near the middle of the month, Patrick and Brooklyn hosted a party to announce their engagement. Solemnly, Jonny got them a gift and went to help celebrate.

Something just wasn’t setting well with him about the whole situation, however. Things weren’t adding up.

Jon had done a little research after they got back to Chicago. It started with a search about early pregnancy detection. It then moved on to googling one Brooklyn Cartier. By the time he was done, Jon was convinced that there had to be more to this story than he was being told. He just didn’t know what that was. Or why Patrick would take responsibility for a baby that most likely wasn’t his. 

“Isn’t it like, a superstitious thing to not make a baby announcement until after the first trimester?” He asked Patrick after Pat told him about the party.

“She says it’s okay. So, ya know.” Patrick shrugged it off.

“Has she been doing okay? With like morning sickness and all?” Jon asked next.

“She was sick a lot right after Halloween, now not so much.” Patrick answered. “Said something about her family not getting morning sickness much when they’ve been expecting. I don’t know. What difference does it make Jon?”

“I’m just asking, Pat, that’s all.” Jon let it drop after that.

The party was a rather low-key affair with mixed responses from their teammates.

“Congrats, Pat.” Saader had said, hugging Patrick tightly. “You finally taking the plunge.”

“No shit?” Sharpy had said skeptically. “That’s, uh, that’s great Peekaboo.”

“You’re surprised, Sharpy?” Patrick questioned.

“Well, yeah, a little. I just always thought… I mean… I thought you…”

“Thought what?” Patrick tipped his head to the side.

“Nothing. Congrats, man. I’m happy for you.” Sharpy had let it go at that.

Jon watched Patrick all evening. Watched as Patrick downed drink after drink. Evidently he was making up for Brooklyn not being able to drink. 

Sharpy cornered Jon at one point. Alone and away from everyone else he asked Jon the question only he and a couple other teammates would know to ask.

“How you doing with all this, Toes.”

“Fine,” Jon sighed, then took a sip of his drink.

“Can’t lie to me, kid. It’s gotta hurt.”

Jon looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with Sharpy. “Nope. I’m happy for Pat.”

“Look, you can be happy for Peeks and still be hurting. It sucks when you love someone, and they don’t feel the same way.”

“Ah yes, the age-old story of the gay boy and the straight boy and the unrequited love. Like I haven’t heard that a million times from you guys. And from Maman, every time I came home with a crush on some new boy.” Jon’s jaw clenched and the muscle along his jaw twitched. He took another sip of his whiskey. “It’s fine, Sharpy. I’ve had a long time to get over Patrick.”

“Right.” Sharpy said sarcastically. “You are so over him. You’ve barely taken your eyes off him all night.”

“So?”

“Jonny, come on.”

“Look. Patrick’s always made it very clear he’s not gay. He’s never been shitty about me being gay, but he’s not. So, I have to be okay with it, right? Let it go, Pat. I’m fine.”

While talking to Sharpy, or getting lectured, as Jon put it later, Jon lost track of where Patrick was. Brooklyn was in her glory, the center of attention from all the other Hawks’ wives and girlfriends. Jon went searching for Patrick. He found him in the master bath, hunched over the toilet.

“Jesus, Peeks. How much have you had?”

“Fuck.” Patrick slurred out, then heaved again.

Jon stood by him and steadied him. When Patrick seemed to be done, he sat down on the floor by the tub. Jon got a washcloth and cleaned his face. Then, Jon got him some water and let him rinse out his mouth.

“I am so fucked.” Patrick blurted out. Then he looked at Jon as if he just then realized Jon was there with him. “Always looking out for me, Jonny.” Patrick said softly. He laid his head on Jon’s thigh when Jon sat down on the edge of the tub next to him. “What would I do without you?”

Jon chuckled. “You’d do the same for me.”

“I’m getting married. Fuck.” Patrick sighed heavily. “Not what I imagined would ever happen.”

“You’re a good guy, Pat. Doing right.”

“Fuck that. Good guys fucking finish last. Isn’t that what they say.” Patrick closed his eyes. “I just want to stay right here. Forever.”

“You can’t hide from life, Pat.” Jon let his hand brush Patrick’s soft curls back off his forehead. He let his hands scrunch through Patrick’s hair.

“Not what I mean.” Patrick’s breathing was evening out, like he was about to fall asleep.

“What then?”

“Hhhmmm….” Patrick sat up with a jolt. “Fuck.”

He looked around again, trying to make sense of things through his drunken fog. He made a few smacking sounds with his mouth. 

“My mouth tastes like shit. I think there’s some Scope in the cabinet. Could you?”

Jon chuckled and retrieved the mouthwash. He watched as Patrick rinsed his mouth out and spit into the tub. Patrick smacked his lips again.

“Better. Gotta get back to my guests.”

He tried to stand up and nearly fell over. Jon grabbed him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“I think you just need to go to bed, buddy.”

Jon led Patrick to the bed and got him to sit on the edge. He tugged Patrick’s shirt out of his waistband and pulled it over Patrick’s head. Patrick raised his arms to help, letting them fall against Jon’s chest after his shirt was off.

“Hey, Tazer. Know what?”

“What?”

“Come closer.”

Jon leaned down until his face was just inches from Patrick’s. Patrick opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but instead he puffed out a blast of breath right in Jon’s face.

“Minty fresh, baby!”

“Oh my fucking god, Patrick!” Jon jerked back. “You asshole.”

Patrick laughed loudly. 

“Hey, hey… come here… I got something else to tell you.” Patrick motioned with his hand for Jon to bend over again.

“Not falling for it again. Come on, need to get you out of your pants.”

Patrick giggled, a happy, drunk giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Jon smiled at him.

“You wanna get me out of my pants.”

Jon froze. He jerked back.

“Come on, come here.” Patrick motioned him to bend again. “I have to tell you something important.”

Jon didn’t know what to do. Finally, he looked down at Patrick. Patrick was looking up at him, face soft, eyes pleading. Jon leaned down. If drunk Patrick wanted to prank him again, Jon would oblige.

When his face was again just inches from Patrick’s Jon stopped. “What?”

Patrick leaned up, bringing his lips to Jon’s. The kiss was slow, tender, just lips touching lips at first. Patrick pressed for more, parting his lips and reaching out to hold Jon’s face. When he ended the kiss, he pulled back only slightly.

“I’d like it if you got in my pants.” Patrick whispered.

Jon swallowed hard. This… this couldn’t be happening. Not now.

“You’re drunk, Pat.” Jon said, pulling away and standing up straight. He shoved Patrick away.

Patrick broke out in a fit of laughter again as his back hit the bed. “Yep. Yep. I am. Drunk as a fucking skunk.”

Jon didn’t waste anymore time, he left Patrick’s pants on and wrestled him under the covers. The laughing fits had drained what little life was left in Patrick and he was dead weight. Jon just needed to get out of there. 

“Hey, hey…” Patrick mumbled. The alcohol taking hold again, he was starting to fade. “Sssshhhhhh….”

“Sssshhhh what?” Jon grumbled.

“We can’t tell, Jonny.”

“We can’t tell who what?”

“No.” Patrick sounded a little panicked. “We can’t tell Jonny. He can’t know.”

“What can’t I know?”

“He can’t know. You gotta promise. You won’t tell him.” Patrick whispered, sounding like a little kid telling his deepest, darkest secret.

“I won’t tell him, Patrick. What?”

“I don’t want to get married.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Cause, I don’t love her.” Patrick whispered. 

“Then don’t get married, Pat.” Jon huffed. He straightened and turned to leave. Then he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard what Patrick said next.

“I love Jonny.”


	5. Merry Christmas

“He said what?”

Patrick Sharp nearly spit his coffee out when Jon told him what Patrick said.

“Peeks? Our Peeks?”

“He was drunk, Sharpy. I don’t think he remembers any of it.” Jon sipped at his cup of tea. “He hasn’t said anything since the party.”

“He was pretty messed up. Reminds me, I need to talk to him about his current alcohol consumption. It’s gonna start affecting his play at some point. Management’s gonna take notice.”

“I thought about that.” Without blinking an eye, Jon dropped the other bombshell. “He kissed me, too.”

“Ppppffffttttt!” Sharpy choked on the sip he was taking, this time spraying coffee across Jon’s kitchen table. “He… what? He kissed you?”

“Yep.” Jon handed Patrick a napkin and went to retrieve some paper towels to clean the mess. “I know he doesn’t remember that.”

“Holy shit, Toes.” When Jon turned, Patrick face was one of complete shock. “I’m… wow… I’m stunned. I don’t know what to say.”

“Not much to say. Patrick was drunk. He was just fucking with me.”

“Uh… right.”

Jon’s brow furrowed. Puzzled by that comment, he sat back down.

“Right?”

“Look, at times I’ve thought about you and Peeks. How close you are. I guess deep down I always thought, maybe, that Peeks might…”

“Might?”

“I just mean, maybe he’s, you know.”

“Gay?” Jon shook his head. “No. He’s not gay.”

“No. Maybe he’s bi. Has that ever crossed your mind?”

Jon sat back in his chair, contemplating.

“No.” He said after a minute. “He’s not. I’m telling you, he was just fucking with me, with the kiss. The other part, I, he…”

“He said he loves you, Jonny.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s getting married. He’s gonna have a kid. He’s had his chance a hundred times if he is really gay, or bi, or whatever.” Jon said curtly. “If he does love me, he’s had his chance to say it when he wasn’t drunk off his ass.”

“Don’t you think you need to find out then? Why? Before he does marry this girl.”

“I’m done chasing Patrick Kane, Sharpy. I was done a long time ago.” Jon stood up and stormed out of the room.

“Oh Jonny. You just keep telling yourself that.” Patrick said under his breath.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week later, the Hawks went on their three-day break for Christmas and Boxing Day.

Jon opted to stay in Chicago. His family flew down from Winnepeg to spend the holidays with him. Patrick took Brooklyn home to Buffalo to meet his family.

They still hadn’t talked about what had happened at the party. Patrick acted like nothing had happened. Jon became more and more convinced that it had just been drunk Patrick screwing with him. He couldn’t let himself believe, or hope for anything else.

It was just after midnight on Christmas Eve when Jon’s phone rang. Sleepily he looked at the caller ID. Patrick.

“Hey, everything okay?” Jon answered the phone.

“Merry Christmas, Jonny.”

“Pat? Are you okay?”

“Huh, yeah, yeah. I just… I just wanted to call and wish you a Merry Christmas.”

Jon looked at his clock. “It’s after one there. Are you drunk again?”

“What? No. I haven’t been drinking, geez. Can’t I just call and wish my best friend a Merry Christmas?”

“What’s wrong, Peeks.” Jon sat up, propping himself against the headboard of his bed. 

“Nothing. I… I guess I just missed you, okay.”

“You just saw me yesterday, well, not yesterday, you know what I mean.”

“I know.” Patrick said, barely above a whisper. “Jon.”

“Talk.”

“What a cluster fuck.” Patrick sounded broken. “This was a huge mistake.”

“What happened?”

“Donna went ballistic. I thought it would be okay, since we’re getting married, but wow.”

Patrick didn’t have the best relationship with his very strict Catholic family Jon knew. He had left when he was just fifteen to go live with a billet family and play junior hockey in Michigan. That had strained the relationship even more as his mother had never supported his hockey, calling it an expensive hobby they didn’t have the money to afford. She constantly complained that Patrick’s sisters had to suffer and do without so that Patrick could play. His father, who Patrick called Senior instead of Dad, had spent the money, however, for Patrick to play. When Patrick had gotten drafted and signed his contract with the Hawks, his dad’s first comment was that he’d finally get his money back.

Jon could only imagine what Patrick’s mom had done when she found out about the pregnancy.

“Shit. What happened?” He asked, running his hand through his hair.

“Well, let me see. It was okay that I brought her home. The engagement was okay. Then… the shit hit the fan.” Patrick told him. “I have committed a mortal sin, Jonny. It doesn’t matter that I’m going to do the right thing, ya know. I’m always going to be the one who fathered a bastard son. How’s she ever going to face her friends. How’s she going to explain this to Father Owens. Oh my god, it was awful.”

“She said all that? To you? Did she do it in front of Brooklyn?”

“No. She waited until she got me alone. Jesus. She just kept going on and on.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. I sat there and let her rant.” Patrick paused. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Jon knew the answer to that.

“I’m surprised she didn’t drag me to the church right then and there to confess my sins. I think she’s planning my penance.” Patrick laughed a little. “She said we needed to get married right now. And then hope that nobody could do the math. We’d just tell everybody the baby was a premie. Nobody would have to know.”

“Are you gonna do that?”

“No. We’re not getting married until after the season is over, which means after the baby is born.” Patrick stated firmly. “I’m not giving in on that.”

Jon sighed with relief. If the wedding was delayed, there was still time for Patrick to change his mind about it. 

“How are things there? How are Andrée and Bryan? David?” Patrick asked. 

“All good. They asked about you.”

“You’re so fucking lucky, Jonny. Your family is normal.” Patrick said. “I can’t imagine your mom acting like Donna. God, what a bitch.”

“Thanks. And it can’t be that bad, Patrick. She’s just all talk.”

“Sure. She’s not all talk. I can’t even imagine what she’d do if I had brought a guy home.”

“Huh?” That took Jon by surprise.

“Andrée. You said she’d never had a problem with you being gay. Wouldn’t care who you brought home as long as you were happy.”

“Oh, that’s what… yeah, never mind… yeah… they’ve always been okay with it.”

“Donna would probably have Father Owens perform and exorcism if she knew I…” Patrick’s voice faded away.

“If she knew what, Peeks?” Jon asked cautiously.

“Nothing, I meant if she thought that I was gay. Either that or she’d just murder me in my sleep and bury the body in the backyard.” Patrick chuckled, having avoided the question.

“Isn’t murder a mortal sin?” Jon laughed too.

“Oh my god. Not when it’s getting rid of a sinner. She’d think she was doing god’s work or something. Come to think of it, I don’t think she’d murder me in my sleep, she’d probably burn me at the stake in the front yard. Send a message to all the other sodomites in the world. Fuck, Jonny, I think getting Brooklyn pregnant out of wedlock is mild compared to how she’d be if I told her I was attracted to guys.”

Jon paused. He waited. Should he say it? Should he risk it? 

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you… um… attracted to… uh… guys?” Jon hesitantly asked.

Silence.

“Patrick?”

Finally, there was some nervous laughter on the other end of the call.

“No, Jonny. Sorry to keep disappointing you, buddy, but you really aren’t my type.”

Jon laughed as well, covering his own feelings.

“You wish you could get a piece of this.” Jon joked. “You aren’t even close to being in my league.”

“Right.” Patrick snorted, then he continued, “Thanks, Jonny. For listening. I should let you get back to sleep.”

“I was still up.”

“Liar. You? You go to bed like an old man, asleep by seven.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Sure, Jonny. Anyway. Sleep well. And, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Peeks. Call again, if you need to talk.”

“I will.” Patrick said. “And, Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you, man.”

“Love you, too, Peeks.” Jon said. It was the most truthful thing he’d ever said to Patrick.


	6. And A Happy New Year?

They came back from the break and played in Colorado on the 27th. They were back in Chicago for a game against Dallas on the 29th, then they traveled the next day to Washington for the Winter Classic on January 1st. Jon could hardly contain his excitement for that game. He loved playing outdoors.

Patrick was equally as excited. 

Another benefit was that families got to come to this game. On New Year’s Eve, the Hawks got to practice on the outdoor rink, to check out the ice conditions. Then, their families got to skate with them for a bit. 

Jon skated around the rink by himself, occasionally getting tagged or tugged on by one of the guys’ kids. He didn’t mind, they were all family on this team. 

Patrick skated alongside Brooklyn, who’d been invited to come. He protectively kept his arm around her waist, steadying her. They looked like the perfect, happy couple.

Jon avoided looking at them.

That evening, the team hosted a casual party for the players and their families. A buffet dinner, music, dancing, nothing too fancy. At 9 pm, they had a pretend ball drop and countdown to the New Year for all the kids. After that, the party broke up with the players going to their rooms and family going to their own rooms. 

Jon watched Patrick take Brooklyn to the elevator. He could have ridden with them, but he hung back so he wouldn’t have to get in that elevator. He took the next one up to the seventh floor and made his way to his room. It was only a few minutes before he heard Patrick enter the adjoining room.

As had been the case since November, Patrick kept his door shut. Jon, ever hopeful, always opened his. Just in case.

Jon went about his nighttime routine. Shit. Shower. Shave. Normally he would brush his teeth, too, but he’d brought up some snacks and wanted to wait until after he ate them. He put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and went out to his bed. He grabbed the snacks and a bottle of water and settled down on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. He turned on the TV and found a movie to watch. It wasn’t long before he had laid over on his side and was sound asleep.

He woke with a jolt a short time later. His neck and back hurt from laying in an awkward position. He sat up and stretched and looked at the clock, 11:47. Well he hadn’t missed ringing in the New Year anyway. He got up, moved the snack stuff off the bed and went to brush his teeth. When he came out of the bathroom, he was startled to find Patrick standing next to his bed.

“Hey.” Patrick said softly. “I heard you up.”

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, I just thought since you were up, we could watch the ball drop together. Ya know, not good to be alone for New Year’s.”

“I thought you’d probably sneak up to Brooklyn’s room.” Jon laughed.

“Nah, I told her it was against team rules and if I got caught I’d get scratched from the game tomorrow.” Patrick grinned. “Can’t have that, now can we.”

Jon laughed. He knew there was no way Patrick would ever be a healthy scratch for this game.

“Nope. We can’t.” Jon walked over and sat down on the end of the bed. He found the remote and turned to the channel covering the ball drop in Times Square. Patrick sat down next to him.

When the countdown got to ten, they started counting out loud.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!” They said in unison.

Patrick turned to Jon and held his arms open. Jon leaned over into the hug. Patrick wrapped his arms tightly around Jon and buried his face against Jon’s neck. After a few seconds, Jon relaxed his hold and tried to lean back.

Patrick didn’t let go.

“Pat?”

“Don’t let go of me, Jonny.” Patrick whispered softly. “Just… don’t ever leave me.”

Jon put his arms back around Patrick and held him close. Patrick was shaking.

Jon rubbed one hand up and down Patrick’s back.

“It’s gonna be okay, Peeks. All this. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be a great dad. And you and Brooklyn, you’re gonna be good.”

Patrick eased his hold and leaned back a little bit. He tipped his head up and looked at Jon, eyes soft, rimmed with tears. 

“Jonny… I… I…” Patrick leaned up. His lips met Jon’s again.

This time, Jon didn’t hold back. He didn’t hesitate. He kissed Patrick back with the full intensity of a man who had been dying of thirst and had finally been given water. Patrick returned the kiss with a passion equal to Jon’s.

Jon’s hands worked over Patrick’s back frantically, tugging and pulling at the material of Patrick’s t-shirt until he got it pulled up and he could get his hands on bare skin. At the first touch, however, Patrick jerked away from Jon. 

His eyes were wild, a terrified look on his face. Patrick brought his hands around and got them between him and Jon. He pushed hard at Jon’s chest.

“No. I… oh god… Jon… I’m… oh god…” Patrick stammered out. “Let go.”

Jon opened his embrace and released Patrick, who nearly toppled over trying to get up off the bed.

“Patrick?”

“I’m sorry. I… fuck… I… I’m sorry.” Patrick bolted for the door to his room. 

Jon tried to follow him, but Patrick slammed the door in his face. Jon leaned his forehead against the door and raised his hand. He knocked lightly.

“Patrick?”

“Patrick?”

He turned around and put his back against the door. He let his body slide down the door until he hit the floor.

Jon sat with his knees pulled up, arms crossed around them. He let his head rest on his knees.

Patrick hadn’t been drunk this time. Jon hadn’t tasted any alcohol on his breath. He hadn’t acted like he’d been drinking.

He’d kissed Jon.

Patrick had been the one to initiate it.

What had gone wrong? What had Jon done?

Slowly Jon got back up and went over to his bed. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, mind racing, unable to sleep.

He heard the door to Patrick’s room open. He held his breath and waited.

Patrick didn’t come in.

Jon didn’t go to him.


	7. What's Going On?

The door was closed again when Jon got up the next morning. 

Patrick sat with Shawzy and Saader at breakfast. Jon sat with Duncs and Sharpy. 

Patrick didn’t act like anything was different, at least with everybody else. He avoided any kind of eye contact with Jon. After breakfast and the team meeting, Patrick bolted out of the banquet room and disappeared until they had to catch the bus to the stadium. 

Normally, he would sit with Jon.

He sat in the very back by himself.

The game was amazing. The conditions for an outdoor game were perfect. The only bad part about the day was that they lost to the Capitals, 3-2. 

By the end of the game, things seemed to have returned to normal between Patrick and Jon. Patrick even kidding with Jon as they walked to the bus. 

Patrick sat in his usual seat, next to Jon, on the flight home. Just like they almost always do, Patrick played a movie on his IPad for them to watch sharing a pair of earbuds. It was as if nothing had happened.

Jon was confused.

But he didn’t say anything to Patrick.

Nothing.

For two whole days.

Jon stood in the parking garage waiting for Patrick. It was driving him crazy that Patrick was acting as if nothing had happened. Twice. Patrick had kissed him twice. 

“Hey.” Jon said as Patrick walked up to his car. “We need to talk.”

“About?” Patrick asked cautiously.

“What happened in D.C.”

“We lost, that’s what happened.” Patrick pushed the button to unlock his car door and reached around Jon for the handle.

Jon grasped Patrick’s wrist, holding it tightly. Patrick didn’t try to pull away.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Then, I don’t know what you would be talking about.” Patrick said coldly.

“Pat.” Jon’s voice softened.

“No, Jon. Nothing happened. Nothing can ever happen.” Patrick tugged at Jon’s hold on his wrist. “Let me go, okay.”

“Why then? Why did you kiss me?”

“I didn’t.”

“Patrick, seriously? That’s how you’re gonna be?”

“I’ve told you, Jon. I’m not gay. I’m… not… okay. I can’t… I told you what…” Patrick stuttered out the words. “Please just let it go, Jon. It can’t happen. It won’t happen again.”

Patrick didn’t look angry. He looked terrified. As terrified as he had that night in the hotel room. Slowly Jon eased his grip on Patrick’s wrist, letting him pull away. Jon stepped back, out of the way and let Patrick get in his car. He watched Patrick back out and drive away without saying another word to him.

Just before he drove off, Patrick looked over his shoulder at Jon. Jon saw it then, on Patrick’s face, in Patrick’s eyes, and he knew. Patrick wasn’t running from Jon; he was running from himself.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick opened the door and walked into his apartment. It was quiet. Maybe she wasn’t here.

“Brooklyn?” He called out, hoping for no response.

“In the kitchen.”

Shit.

He kicked off his shoes and walked to the kitchen. Brooklyn was sitting at the table flipping through a magazine.

“What’re you reading?” Patrick asked politely. He didn’t go to her, though, no kiss hello. Instead he went to the refrigerator and got out the orange juice. He set the container on the counter and reached for a glass.

“Home decorating ideas. This place is so drab. Thought I’d make some changes.”

“Oh.” Patrick didn’t think the place was bad. He wasn’t about to disagree with her, however.

“We’ve been invited out to dinner. Patrick Sharp’s wife called. Said a bunch of them were getting together and asked if we wanted to go.”

“And?”

“I said sure. Need to get to know them, after all.” Brooklyn looked up from the magazine as Patrick was finishing his glass of juice. “Wash that and put it back. I hate how you leave dishes in the sink all the time.”

“Okay,” Patrick agreed again. “Sorry.”

“Anyway. Do you think Toews will be there, too? Given he doesn’t have a girlfriend or anything? Why would he be invited to a couples’ night?”

“It’s probably not just couples. It’s probably a team thing. All the guys might be invited. I don’t know, Sharpy didn’t say anything about it at practice.”

“I hope he’s not.” Brooklyn stated, going back to flipping through the magazine. “I don’t like him.”

“Jon? Why not?”

“I don’t think he likes me. And,” she looked up again, “I think he likes you just a little too much.”

Patrick turned around, avoiding her glare. He started washing his glass.

“Patrick? Am I right? Should I have said he doesn’t have a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend?”

Patrick shrugged. “How would I know that? Jon’s just my friend. We’ve been friends since we were rookies together.”

“That’s all?”

“I told you that. Why don’t you believe me?”

Brooklyn stood up and walked over to stand up close to Patrick.

“Just remember our arrangement. You don’t want the world to know the truth about Patrick Kane, you play by my rules. And the newest rule is that you don’t hang around Jonathan Toews. He doesn’t like me and that could be trouble for you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Brooklyn. I understand.” Patrick said softly, his head bowed.

“Good. Then everything is okay. We’re meeting them at six at the restaurant. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

Patrick let out the breath he’d been holding. His whole body was shaking.

What had he gotten himself into? How could he have been so stupid, so careless? 

How was he going to avoid Jon?


	8. Patrick's World

Patrick tried.

Really, he did.

He tried his hardest to make everything appear routine around the team. Away from them, however, everything was anything but ordinary. 

He didn’t talk to Jon. He didn’t go out to dinner or to get coffee with Jon. He didn’t catch a ride to the airport with Jon.

In the matter of just a week, after Brooklyn’s ultimatum, he had completely shut Jon out of his private life.

His life sucked. How had he let this happen?

He missed Jon. Even though it had only been a week, he missed Jon. And he could tell Jon was not taking the cold shoulder well. 

Patrick was sure Jon was thinking it had something to do with what happened in Washington. 

What had Patrick been thinking? Let’s just compound one bad situation by making another horrendously bad decision. It was just that, he’d been feeling so defeated, so trapped by what was happening in his life. And, Jon was there. Jon was always there. The feelings were always there.

He’d fallen in love with Jonathan Toews their rookie year, when they’d roomed together on the road. They’d spent a lot of time outside of hockey together, too. The two rookies, the future of the Blackhawks. Their careers would be forever entwined, it was not Toews or Kane, it was Toews and Kane.

How Patrick wished that could be. 

It could never be. Not for Patrick Timothy Kane II, son of one ultra-religious, homophobic, bigoted Catholic mother Donna Kane. Patrick hadn’t been kidding when he told Jon he thought Donna would burn him at the stake if she even thought for a second that he was gay.

So, Patrick had suppressed his feelings for boys, for Jon. He dated girls. He never got to serious with them. He never had sex with them. He used his good Catholic upbringing as an excuse in his mind for that one. No sex before marriage. He’d always broken up with the girl when it had gotten to that point in a relationship. 

Patrick drank too much sometimes, to help hide his feelings. It was also his back-up for not having sex with a girl sometimes. Can’t have sex if you’re too drunk to get it up. It seemed logical. To Patrick. It had worked, until Brooklyn.

That fucking Halloween party. Why had he invited her? He knew why.

Jonny.

Damn Jonny had wanted them to go as a couple. Well, Patrick couldn’t have that. People might think… well he just couldn’t have that.

So, he’d invited Brooklyn. It was their third date. What he’d told Jon about them dating for a few weeks had been another little lie. 

Patrick’s whole life was one little lie after another. This one had caught him in a trap, however.

Brooklyn.

And now, Brooklyn was costing him the one person who had always been there for him. The one person he wanted to be in his life.

The thought of being with Jon, of actually giving in to his feelings and being with Jon that way made Patrick’s insides flutter and his heart race. The thought of living without Jon in his life at all made Patrick’s insides flutter and his heart race. 

In the eight seasons he’d played with Jon, Patrick had controlled his feelings. He was not gay. He was not in love with Jonathan Toews. He might have to tell himself that every day if that’s what it took, but he was not allowed to be gay. He was not allowed to be in love with Jon.

Patrick was in love with Jon.

The kiss in D.C. had been a mistake. But it had felt so good to Patrick. So… right.

Jon’s mouth on his. Jon’s arms around him.

For the first time since Halloween, Patrick had felt… safe. He felt like he could tell Jon what was going on. He felt like Jon would step in and take care of everything. It was the happiest thirty seconds he’d felt since he met Brooklyn. And then reality hit, and Patrick couldn’t get away from Jon fast enough. 

It couldn’t happen again. Patrick wouldn’t let it happen again.

He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick parked his car and got out. He started towards the players’ entrance to the United Center when he saw Jon. It was obvious Jon was waiting for him.

“Hey.” Patrick said nonchalantly. He kept walking past Jon, who quickly fell in step beside him.

“We need to talk.”

“Again with the we need to talk, Jon?” Patrick whistled. “Not sure I can handle two serious talks in the same month.”

Jon waited until they had cleared the security guards and were in the long concourse leading to the locker room. He grabbed Patrick’s arm and pulled him over to the wall.

“What’s going on, Peeks. You’ve hardly talked to me since…”

“I’ve talked to you. I’m talking to you now.” Patrick smirked. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You not talking to me.” Jon snapped.

“But, I am talking to you.”

“Oh my god. Not now, I mean, yes, now you are. But, fuck, you haven’t been talking to me. I mean, you did while we were in Minnesota, and Edmonton. But since we got back, nothing. We haven’t been out for coffee. I thought you’d come over and while we were off those four days last week and play some Mario Kart. It’s like since D.C. that… well, you’ve been avoiding me.”

Patrick’s face had gone blank, like he was somewhere deep in his own thoughts.

“Pat?” Jon waved his hand in front of Patrick’s face.

“Huh?” Patrick said, startled. “Um, yeah, no, I’m sorry Jon, if you think that. But I’m just really busy with things. Ya know, Brooklyn, baby stuff, doctor appointments, and stuff. Don’t have time for games anymore.”

With that Patrick turned and walked away, leaving Jon standing there stunned. Patrick’s mind was racing, however. Something Jon said triggered an idea. An idea of how he could get to spend time with Jon without Brooklyn knowing. And this plan wouldn’t even involve him having to lie.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t understand.” Brooklyn sounded annoyed. “I went to the outdoor game. I go to all the home games. I sit with the other wags. I’m going to the All-star game. Why can’t I go on this trip?”

“The Winter Classic was a special game. They make exceptions for special games. And All-star weekend is usually another time that they let families go along.” Patrick told her. “But, normally, wives and girlfriends don’t get to travel with the team when it’s a long road trip. And truth, they really aren’t allowed, or aren’t supposed to go on their own either. It’s like too much of a distraction on the road. It’s already a lot of travel days, and practices, and they use it sometimes as team bonding time. Like we’re getting close to the end of the season, and we’ll be making a push for the playoffs. They want us to all be focused on that. You’d hardly get to see me if you did go.”

“How can it be a distraction on the road and not at home?”

“I don’t get it either. But, you can call and ask one of the other girlfriends.” 

“I think I will.” Brooklyn huffed. She picked up her phone and looked through her contacts.

“Hey, Chaunette, it’s Brooklyn.” She said when Shawzy’s girlfriend answered. “Hey, I was wondering if you were planning on going out to California to meet the boys on the trip coming up? No? Oh, okay, yeah. Patrick said something like that. Do you know? No? Maybe, yeah. That might be why. Okay, no big deal. What? Yeah, we’ll have to do that. Thanks, hon. Bye.”

“And?”

“She said what you said.” Brooklyn pouted. “Fuck. I was looking forward to getting some sun. Oh well. I’ll just have to find some other way to amuse myself.”

Patrick new that meant he’d be spending a lot of money to amuse her. Or more accurately, she’d be spending a lot of his money.

“No problem.” He said. “I’ll leave you a card.”

With that, Patrick started planning on how he was going to get to spend time alone with Jon on their upcoming twelve-day, six-game road trip following the All-star break. It would be good to just get to spend time with him. 


	9. Mixed Signals

Jon had barely started to unpack his bag when there was a loud knocking on the door to the adjoining room. He wasn’t sure anymore if that was a good thing or a bad thing, meaning he had no idea what Patrick waited on the other side.

Jon was so confused by Patrick’s behavior at this point he didn’t know sometimes if he should wind his ass or scratch his watch.

Cautiously he opened the door.

“Hey!” Patrick traipsed happily across Jon’s room and flopped down on the bed. “Welcome to sunny California, baby!”

“It’s raining, Patrick.” Jon corrected him.

“Rain schmain. It’s always sunny in California, Jonny.”

“No, that’s Philadelphia, Peeks.”

“Ha, funny.”

Patrick propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Jon went back to unpacking.

“That can wait, can’t it?”

“Why?” Jon carried his toiletry cast into the bathroom.

“You remember that little bakery coffee shop we found a couple years ago?” Patrick continued. “I was thinking, maybe, we could go find it again. Have one of those little pies they had.”

“Tarts.” Jon said as he came back into the room.

“What?”

“They were fruit tarts. Not pies.”

“Whatever.” Patrick huffed. “They were delicious. And, well, I thought we could get out of here for a bit.”

“We just got here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, do you wanna go get some coffee and a little pie,” Jon rolled his eyes, “sorry, tart, do you wanna go get some coffee and a tart or not?”

“Anybody else going?”

“Nope. Just us.”

Jon looked at Patrick cautiously. Patrick was grinning widely, all happy looking. More importantly, he wanted to go out with Jon. Just Jon. He couldn’t say no to that.

An hour later, after a lot of debate and a lot of internet searching, they found themselves at the coffee shop enjoying the fruit tarts and coffee. They talked about hockey and the push to the playoffs. They talked about the approaching trade deadline and what moves Stan might make. They talked about Jon’s family, him filling Patrick in all David’s latest antics. 

It was a good evening. 

It was like all the strangeness that was the past few months had never happened.

Back at the hotel, Patrick stayed in Jon’s room. They found a movie to watch and ordered a late dinner from room service. When Patrick finally said goodnight, he sauntered back to his room and left the adjoining door open.

Jon slept contentedly. Happy to have the old Patrick back.

Over the course of the next few days, they lost to Los Angeles, beat Anaheim and then lost to San Jose and Minnesota before heading to Winnipeg. Jon was looking forward to this part of the trip. They would fly in the afternoon of the 4th, after a morning practice in Minnesota. They’d have the balance of the day, plus the whole next day off. It would be good to get to spend some time with family. Patrick was excited, too.

Jon’s parents had them over for dinner at the house the first night. Andrée fixed all of Patrick’s favorite foods, prompting Jon to remind her who actually was her son. Secretly, he didn’t mind because Patrick was all smiles and giggles all evening, and if it made Patrick that happy it was all okay with Jon.

The next day, Jon and Patrick hit up Patrick’s favorite place in Winnipeg, the Forks Market. They wandered around for a few hours browsing the shops and hitting up the food stalls. Patrick even talked Jon into sampling a few of the craft beer offerings. They finished off the night with Mario Kart and room service. 

The next night, the Hawks beat the Jets 2-1 in overtime. Patrick had a good night, getting a goal to tie the game and then an assist on Saader’s game winner in OT. He was all smiles in the locker room. 

Jon loved seeing Patrick smile.

The loaded onto the bus for the ride to the airport for their flight to St. Louis a short time after the game. Patrick sat down next to Jon and nudged his shoulder.

“Hasn’t been a bad trip. We can still manage to pick up six out of twelve points. Breaking even isn’t bad. The way we started, damn, I thought for sure we’d be lucky with two points this trip.”

“It’s not bad, but it’s not good either. We need points, Pat.” Jonny, always so serious, replied.

“We’re doing okay there, Captain Serious. We’ve got a long home stretch coming and…”

“Are things gonna change again?” Jon interrupted.

“… we… huh? Change how?” Patrick asked confusedly.

“I just wondered if you were gonna go back to ignoring me, when we got home.”

“Um… no.” Patrick said quietly and turned his attention to his phone.

Jon watched at Patrick opened a text message to read it.

“Brooklyn?”

“Uh huh.” Patrick mumbled.

Patrick’s expression suddenly changed, his smile gone. The color drained from his cheeks. It was almost the same terrified look Jon had seen the night Patrick kissed him in D.C.

“Peeks? Something wrong?”

“Um… uh… no…” Patrick stuttered. “I just… no… nothing.”

Patrick abruptly got up and moved to the back of the bus without saying anything else. On the plane, he sat next to the window with his back turned towards Jon. That night, the adjoining door to his room stayed closed.

Jon’s chest hurt, a hollow empty feeling. He knew it was too good to have hoped it would last, that things were back to normal between them. It hadn’t even lasted until they got back to Chicago. Patrick had said it would.

Jon laid in bed that night unable to sleep. He thought about the last few months. He thought about what happened on the bus. He thought about how Brooklyn acted around him. 

Brooklyn.

That’s when Patrick had changed. It had something to do with Brooklyn.

Patrick was with her, though. He’d made that clear. Jon, kissing Jon, was a mistake. Patrick had made that clear, as well.

Jon knew what he had to do, what would be the best thing for him, for his sanity. 

He’d just have to let Patrick go to his new life, with Brooklyn. For whatever reason, Jon evidently wasn’t supposed to be a part of it.

The next day, Jon kept his distance from Patrick. He didn’t sit with him at breakfast. On the bus to practice, Jon sat with Sharpy. He ignored Patrick all through the team dinner. That night, Jon closed his adjoining door to Patrick’s room.

If this was what Patrick wanted, Jon would let him go.

He would.

He could do this.

He kept telling himself that as he got ready for bed. He kept telling himself that as he settled in and tried to go to sleep. He kept telling himself that as he finally got up and went and opened his door again.

Patrick’s was closed, as he expected. But… Jon’s was open. He could start distancing himself from Patrick once they got back to Chicago, he told himself. It didn’t have to be right away. He climbed back into bed and was soon sound asleep.

Jon woke with a start. That half-awake, half-asleep startle where you aren’t sure if your dream is reality or not. In the darkness of the room he felt a presence, too.

“Peeks?”

The bed dipped slightly as Patrick sat down on the edge.

“What’s wrong?” Jon reached out and put his hand on Patrick’s arm, trying to gather his senses and wake up.

“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep.” Patrick said softly.

“Kay. Why?”

“We go back to Chicago tomorrow, after the game. And everything’s gonna be all messed up again.”

“What? How?”

Patrick shivered under Jon’s touch.

“You wanna sleep in here? Or just lay down and we can talk for a while?”

Patrick shook his head. He scrubbed his hands over his face. He turned slightly to be able to look down at Jon. His eyes having adjusted to the darkness, Jon could just make out Patrick’s form.

“Peeks?” Jon whispered.

Patrick’s form leaned down towards him. Jon held his breath.

Patrick’s lips pressed against Jon’s. His hands moved to rest on Jon’s chest. When he pulled back, Jon’s breath came out in a small puff against Patrick’s cheek. Patrick kept his head lowered, his face close to Jon’s. He brought a finger up to Jon’s lips.

“Peeks?”

“Ssssshhhhhhh.”

Patrick hesitated for a moment, then let his hand cup Jon’s face. His thumb brushed back and forth over Jon’s lips.

“This never happened.” Patrick whispered. “It never happened, and it can never happen again. Okay?”

Patrick’s kiss and his warm breath against Jon’s skin was clouding Jon’s brain. 

He should have said no. 

But he wanted.

God. He wanted.


	10. A Taste of Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets more of a taste of Patrick...

Jon closed his eyes as Patrick kissed him again. Patrick’s lips, warm and soft, against his made his head spin. He parted his lips slightly, letting Patrick deepen the kiss. 

Jon’s hands grasped the bed covers, scrunching them tightly in his fists. He was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, lest Patrick bolt out of his room as he had in Washington. 

He felt Patrick’s hand slide down from his jaw. Patrick’s hand felt like it was leaving a brand on Jon’s skin. He couldn’t discern whether the heat was actually coming from Patrick or from Jon’s body itself, the flush of his skin rushing to meet Patrick’s touch. He wanted to feel that heat on every inch of his body. 

While he kept kissing him, Jon felt Patrick shift so he was sitting on top of Jon, straddling his hips. Patrick let his mouth slip away from Jon’s and work its way along his jaw. He took an earlobe between his teeth and gently tugged, eliciting a small murmur from Jon. Jon bit his lip to try and keep from making any noise.

“It’s okay, Jonny.” Patrick whispered softly in his ear. “You’re allowed to enjoy it.”

Jon swallowed hard and shifted his hips under Patrick in an attempt to hide his reaction to Patrick’s words. He couldn’t be too eager, Patrick would leave.

Patrick sat up.

“It’s okay.”

He reached down and grasped Jon’s wrists, tugging for Jon to release his grip on the bed cover. He brought Jon’s hands to his chest.

“You’re allowed to touch, too.” Patrick assured him.

Jon didn’t move, though. Patrick grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, tossing it over onto the other bed. He then brought his hands back to Jon’s. 

Jon let Patrick guide his touch. Patrick’s skin was soft and cool under the heat of Jon’s hands. Patrick stopped when Jon’s hands were over his nipples, hard little buds contrasting the smoothness of Patrick’s chest. Jon took a nipple between his finger and thumb and pinched it lightly. A low moan escaped Patrick’s lips and he pressed his chest against Jon’s hands.

That broke Jon’s restraint, any care for Patrick bolting flooded from his brain. He wrapped his arms around Patrick as he sat up, bringing their bodies together. The force of Jon’s kiss taking Patrick’s breath away this time.

Jon’s fingers dug into Patrick’s back as he tried to pull him even tighter. His teeth nipped at the taught skin of Patrick’s jaw, then down the side of his neck. Patrick tipped his head to the side, baring more of the soft flesh to Jon. 

Patrick pushed back against Jon’s embrace. Jon froze for a moment, fearing that Patrick had changed his mind again. Patrick hadn’t. His hands came up to either side of Jon’s head and guided him down Patrick’s chest. Jon caught on quickly. Jon’s mouth covered one of Patrick’s nipples. He let his tongue flick across it. He let his teeth nip at it, biting and tugging, then sucking at it. The sounds Patrick was making, soft mews, little moans of pain and pleasure, were driving Jon crazy.

He had seen Patrick naked hundreds of times. Had always had to worship him from afar. Never allowed to touch the way he truly yearned to touch. Never dreaming that he could have this.

Jon groaned disapprovingly when Patrick put his hands between them and pushed Jon back down to the bed. His dismay only lasted a moment until Patrick bent over and kissed him. Patrick repeated Jon’s moves, nipping at his skin, kissing his way down Jon’s chest. Patrick didn’t stop at Jon’s nipples, though.

He continued down over Jon’s abs and pulled the bed covers down.

“See you still sleeping in the buff. That certainly makes things easier.” Patrick chuckled.

Jon wanted to quip back at him, make some snarky retort, but before he could, Patrick’s mouth was on his dick. All ability to think and speak flooded from Jon’s brain. He pushed his head back into his pillow and moaned loudly.

For years, Jon had been witnessing what he referred to as Patrick’s oral obsession. Patrick chewed on everything. His mouthguard. His gloves. Even his stick one time. Jon and the boys took great pleasure in chirping Patrick about it. Jon often kidded Patrick about having a talented mouth.

He had no idea just how talented it really was.

Until now.

Patrick held just the tip in his mouth at first, his tongue circling around and over it. His lips pressed around the shaft, tightening each time Patrick paused to swallow. Just at the point that Jon wanted to arch up into Patrick’s mouth. Patrick’s lips parted slightly, and he lowered his mouth down around Jon, not stopping until his lips met the skin at the base of Jon’s shaft.

Jon reached down and found Patrick’s head in the dark. He twined his fingers through Patrick’s hair, holding his head down. Patrick’s sucked, gently at first, then harder, his tongue pushing against the underside of Jon’s hardness. Jon wanted to thrust up, wanted to drive his dick down Patrick’s throat. Wanted…

Patrick’s hands dropped down and held Jon’s hips down, as if he knew what Jon wanted. He pushed up against Jon’s hand and Jon let him raise his head. Patrick began a steady up and down bobbing on Jon’s dick, sliding it between his lips, stroking it with his tongue.

Patrick’s hands roamed over Jon’s hips and down his thighs, then back up. One hand cupped his balls, pressing them up against Jon’s body. The pressure made Jon squirm, seeking relief. He wanted this to last. All the closeness. All the feelings. Everything.

“Peeks.” Jon murmured. “Damn. You need to…”

“Hhhhmmmm,” Patrick hummed happily, not letting up on his oral manipulations.

“Pat, I need.” Jon tugged at Patrick’s hair clenched in his fist until Patrick finally lifted his head.

“What?”

“My turn.”

Jon’s hands moved to Patrick’s shoulders and urged him up. He rolled them over and moved down between Patrick’s legs. He slipped his fingers inside the waist of Patrick’s sweatpants and pulled them down.

“Still free-ballin’ at night.” Jon chirped.

“Lettin’ hang most of the time, Jonny. It’s liberating. You should try it.” Patrick snorted. 

Jon laughed. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

He sat back on his heels. He reached down and took Patrick’s dick in one hand and cupped his balls with the other. Jon rubbed his thumb over the tip, spreading the slit and spreading the precome that was leaking out around the head. 

The thought that Patrick had a really nice dick ran through his brain. Not that Jon was an expert on dicks or anything. He’d had a few over the years. Hook-ups. Meaningless sex. He realized that he had secretly always compared them to Patrick. Truth was he’d always fantasized that it was Patrick whenever he found one that reminded him of Patrick. 

A guilty flush warmed his face. 

Jon was thankful for the darkness of the room so he didn’t have to explain that one to Patrick.

He hunched himself over and licked at the tip of Patrick’s dick. Jon ran his tongue down the shaft and around the base, then back up. The next time he went down, he took Patrick’ balls in his mouth, sucking and tugging first one side then the other.

“Nice technique, Tazer.” Patrick moaned. “You’ve done this before.”

Jon stopped and raised his head. “I could have said the same thing about you.”

He regretted it the minute it passed his lips. 

He was sure Patrick would leave. That his comment had somehow crossed that invisible line that Patrick kept moving on him.

After a couple of seconds, Patrick chuckled. “Yeah, not my first rodeo.”

That really took Jon out of his head space. He stopped what he was doing completely and sat up. He knew he shouldn’t say anything. He should let it drop. Brush it off as Patrick just kidding with him about it. 

“Hey, Toes. Didn’t say you could stop.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Jon mumbled. He chased the thoughts about Patrick having been with other men out of his head. It didn’t matter. Patrick was here with him now. He needed to just enjoy this. Patrick had said it was a one-time shot.

Jon took Patrick back into his mouth, working his whole length in and out. He wrapped his hand around the base and squeezed as he drew his mouth up. It had the desired effect, bringing out more soft noises from Patrick. Jon sucked and licked at Patrick’s dick and balls until Patrick, easing up each time he felt Patrick getting close. He didn’t stop until he had Patrick begging him to just let him come.

Jon slid his hands under Patrick’s hips and lifted him up as he sat back on his own heels. Patrick braced his feet on the bed and scooted down until his hips were pressed to Jon’s. Their hard dicks jutted up between them.

Jon took them both in his hand, holding them together as one. His own dick was as wet as Patrick’s with precome. Jon started to stroke them together.

“This okay?”

“Yeah.” Patrick groaned. “Yeah, like this.”

Jon leaned forward slightly and laid his hand on Patrick’s chest for leverage. He worked his hand up and down their hard dicks. Slowly at first, then faster, increasing the pressure of his grip with every few strokes. The jerking on their dicks made their balls slap together. That sound and their heaving breathing the only noise in the room.

Patrick came first, his come spraying up onto his stomach and covering Jon’s hand. Patrick’s whole body tensed as he came, his legs wrapped around Jon’s waist and held him tight.

The added lubrication from Patrick’s come let Jon work his own dick harder and it wasn’t long before he came too. He kept rubbing his hand up and down until they were both completely spent, then he collapsed down on the bed, flipping over onto his back and landing next to Patrick.

They laid there, side-by-side, breathing hard from the exertion. Jon moved first. He started to get up to get cleaned off.

“Don’t go.” Patrick said, rolling over onto his side and wrapping an arm around Jon’s waist to hold him down. Patrick rested his head on Jon’s shoulder. “Just stay here.”

“Need to get a washcloth.” Jon said softly. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, just cover us up. It’s a hotel and our last night here. Who’s gonna care?” Patrick persisted. “Just hold me, okay?”

Jon made Patrick let him up long enough to find the sheets and bed spread. He pulled them up over the both of them. Jon slipped his left arm under Patrick so he could hold him as Patrick stretched out against him again. Jon laid his right arm on top of Patrick’s, which was across Jon’s chest.

“Like this.” Patrick sighed. “I just want to stay like this tonight.”

Jon tipped his head down and kissed the top of Patrick’s curls.

“Whatever you want, Peeks.” Jon whispered, then he said louder. “You said something. Earlier.”

“No questions, Jonny. That’s part of the deal, too.”

“But.”

Patrick lifted his head and looked at Jon. “This didn’t happen. And you can’t ask me any questions about anything. Nothing. Nothing that’s going on. Nothing. Get it. It’s the way it has to be.”

“Okay, Peeks. No questions.” Jon sighed, his frustration showing.

Patrick settled back down against his chest and Jon tried not to think about it. Soon, he realized Patrick was sleeping. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off as well.

The next morning Jon woke when his alarm went off. He stretched his arms out and yawned.

Patrick was gone. 

He looked towards the adjoining room doors. His door was closed.

Jon wondered if it had been real. If his imagination and desire had fueled his dreams. He sat up and stretched again.

Patrick’s t-shirt was still laying on the other bed.


	11. Not Miss Popularity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's short... but i need to post... sorry for the delays...

The Hawks closed out the road trip with a win in St. Louis. That night after the game, they flew home to Chicago. 

Jon climbed the steps to the plane, his mind racing. He followed Patrick to their seats and let him take the window seat again. It was going to be a long flight sitting next to Patrick and not being able to touch him. 

Patrick curled up in the seat with his back to Jon, quiet and withdrawn. Jon wanted to reach out, to hold him. Images from the night before flashed through his mind. Patrick under him. Patrick’s mouth on him. His hands all over Patrick.

He had so many questions. Why now? What had changed in Patrick’s life that had allowed him to come to Jon? For all of Patrick’s denials over the years, Patrick definitely wasn’t the straight boy he claimed to be. Maybe Sharpy was right about it, though. Maybe Patrick was actually bisexual.

That really sent Jon’s brain spinning out of control. Patrick had been with other men. Everything about the previous night certainly made Jon think that. Not his first rodeo? What the hell did that mean? If it wasn’t, why would Patrick go to other men? Why wouldn’t he have ever hit on Jon before? It wasn’t like Jon hid his feelings that well. Patrick knew. He joked with Jon about it. Patrick had even drunkenly proclaimed his love for Jon. So why? Why now?

All of Jon’s reasoning for everything that was going on kept coming back to one thing. Brooklyn. 

Something still didn’t sit right with him about her. There was something off about the whole pregnancy thing, but Patrick seemed okay with that. Or was he? Maybe his finally being with Jon was his way of revolting against it. Against his mother. Against his life. Against having to marry Brooklyn.

Maybe Patrick had finally grown tired of being the good catholic boy, of suppressing his true feelings. How long had he had these feelings, though? Had he secretly been in love with Jon this whole time? 

So many questions. No logical answers.

Jon looked over at Patrick. He wished he could read his mind. Wished he could know for certain what was going on.

\------------------------------------------------------------

February in Chicago was cold and windy. Life dragged on for Jon. Patrick grew more distant every day. At least from Jon. Patrick and Brooklyn spent their time socializing with the other Blackhawk couples. Brooklyn was the picture-perfect WAG at public events. Always one of the ones at the center of the action. 

Jon was hearing a different story from the guys.

“Poor Kaner.” Shawzy said one day. “She really has him by the balls.”

Jon’s ears perked up when he heard Patrick’s name. Shawzy was talking to Seabs. Jon, a short distance away, couldn’t help but over-hearing.

“Man, the way she fucking talks to him. I can’t even.” Seabs said.

“Chaunette says she’s just after his money. Says she spends it like crazy.” Shawzy shook his head. “If I was Kaner there’s two things I’d do before I married her. First I’d get a prenup…”

“And I’d get a damn paternity test.” Seabs finished.

“Damn straight.” Shawzy chuckled. “Chaunette says they’re getting a little tired of her. She’s not fitting in well at all.”

“Dayna says she told her that they need to have her baby shower in April.” Seabs shook his head slowly. “Right in the middle of playoffs.”

“Baby isn’t due until July? That’s what Kaner said. Why not wait?”

“Who knows? Dayna says if they have to have one, better to just get it over with.”

Jon didn’t hear anything more as they got up and walked away. What he had heard just made the situation all the more confused. Why was Kaner with this woman?

\------------------------------------------------------------

February wasn’t just hard on Jon, it was hard on the whole team. They lost five out of eight on their homestand, then split the final two games of the season on the road. It was a miserable showing.

Stan held tough though as the trade deadline approached. No earth-shaking big trades. No big-name rental players. Just some added depth at the primary cost of some trade picks.

February ended. The Hawks roared into March like a lion, and never backed down. They ended up winning nine of thirteen, guaranteeing their spot in the playoffs. 

Having had Patrick in his arms had been bliss. As the days passed, however, Jon realized more and more that Patrick had told him the truth. It was a one-time deal.

On the last road trip of February, Jon had been hopeful. He wanted Patrick to come to him again. 

The door to Patrick’s room had stayed closed the whole trip.

Old sayings always hold a bit of truth and Jon could now confirm that a taste of honey was in fact worse than none at all.

Mid-March, they started another couple of series of long road trips. Each time, Jon waited. Hoped. And, he got nothing but a closed door and a distant Patrick.

That was until the end of the month and a one-game trip to Winnipeg. 


	12. Winnipeg

“Sssshhhhhh…”

Jon’s body jerked as he was startled awake by a voice in his room. A hand covered his mouth. He started to struggle until the hand slid away and was replaced by warm, soft lips. It had to be Patrick, but Jon’s brain wasn’t working right. The door to Patrick’s room had been closed when Jon went to bed. Closed and locked. He’d checked. Just to make sure.

“What the fuck, Pat?” Jon demanded once Patrick pulled away from the kiss. Jon licked his lips, tasting the alcohol. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe.” Patrick murmured and leaned in for another kiss.

“Stop.” Jon got his arms free and pushed against Patrick’s shoulders. “Just…”

“What? Don’t you want to?”

“I just. What the fuck?”

“I thought.” Patrick sat up.

“You thought what? That I’d want you to sneak into my hotel room for some drunken sex? After…”

“After?”

“After you said what happened in St. Louis was a one-time shot.”

“Well…” Patrick slurred out, “maybe I changed my mind about that.” He tried to lean over and kiss Jon again, but Jon blocked him.

“You changed your mind? Just like that?” Jon huffed. “You know what? No. Fuck you, Patrick.”

“That’s the idea.” Patrick whispered.

Jon paused, caught off-guard by that. Was that what Patrick wanted? He shook his head. No, he needed to stand firm.

“I’m not some nobody you can just fuck with, Pat. Get out.”

“No.”

“Get out.” Jon shoved at Patrick’s chest.

“Please, Jonny. Don’t do this.”

Jon used his legs to push at Patrick, who slid off the bed and landed with a loud thud on the floor. Jon kicked his legs out from under the bedding and sat up on the edge of the bed. He looked down at Patrick in the dim light.

“What the fuck’s going on, Peeks?” He asked, his tone not as harsh. “You brush me off for years. I’m not your type. You aren’t gay. Sorry Jon, but…”

“I…” Patrick pulled his knees to his chest and tipped his head down, as if he could avoid Jon by curling himself into a small ball. 

“Talk to me. Tell me what this is?”

“I can’t.” Patrick said softly. “Please don’t ask me things I can’t tell you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Patrick. You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“No. Look, I’m sorry.” He uncurled himself and got up. “I thought you’d… never mind. My mistake.”

“Pat.” Jon stood. “Does this have to do with Brooklyn?” Jon asked.

Patrick stopped a few feet from him.

“It does.”

“No.” Patrick snapped. “It doesn’t.”

“Then what is this? Some wild itch you suddenly have to fuck with me? Years, Pat. You’ve had years. Now all of the sudden you’re getting married and this happens. Gotta get the gay out before you get married? Is that it?”

“Fuck you!” Patrick turned and swung his arm, his hand catching Jon square across the cheek with a loud smack. 

Jon rushed Patrick, grabbing him by the upper arms and shoving him back until they hit the wall.

“Fucking hell, Patrick!” Jon swore. Their faces were inches apart. Patrick’s breath was hot against his cheek yet is cooled the sting of the blow. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t do this and not tell me what’s going on.”

“I… I…” Patrick stammered. “I’m sorry, Jon. I can’t.”

“Peeks.” Jon tipped his head down until his forehead rested against Patrick’s. “Tell me.”

“Jonny, please.”

Jon straightened. His hands slid from Patrick’s arms as he took a step back.

“You need to go.”

Patrick hesitated just for a second, then walked to the connecting doors.

“You’re not just…” Patrick started to say something.

“Just go.” Jon cut him off.

Patrick disappeared and Jon heard the door shut. Jon sat down on the edge of his bed. He scrubbed his hands over his face. 

He was done. 

He was done with Patrick Kane.


	13. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short... but... a chapter... yay....

It didn’t take long for some of his teammates to notice that there was a problem between their captain and his best friend. The problem was what they could or even should do about it.

The regular season ended, and the Hawks entered the playoffs as the third seed in the Central Division. First up would be Nashville. The series started Wednesday, April 15th, in Nashville. They came back to Chicago with the series tied at one game apiece, their win coming in a hard-fought game one which went into double overtime. There was no doubt that this was going to be a tough series.

To everyone’s surprise, and distaste, Brooklyn made them have a baby shower on the Saturday between games two and three. Everyone was invited, wives, girlfriends, players. Everyone except Jon, that was.

As it turned out, he was glad he wasn’t there. 

What happened at the shower, however, was the incentive that Patrick Sharp, Duncan Keith and Brent Seabrook needed to decide that they absolutely had to deal with this problem. Not a problem with Jon and Patrick, but the problem with Patrick and his girlfriend. For that, they needed to talk to Jon.

“So, what did she do now?” Jon sighed when Sharpy asked him to join the guys for lunch, to discuss Patrick.

“What makes you think it’s her?”

“Just a guess.” Jon said sarcastically. “I heard things.”

“Right. Just come to lunch, Toes. We need to talk.”

Reluctantly, Jon found himself sitting at a quiet corner table at their favorite lunch spot in Nashville a few days later. They were all tired and he’d just wanted to take advantage of the day off. Game four, the night before, had gone three overtimes. That was followed by a late-night flight back to Nashville. He had slept in and would have happily stayed in his hotel room all day, had Sharpy not insisted he go to lunch. Now, he was trapped in the middle of the group, forced to talk about Patrick and that woman.

“She slapped Abby.” Sharpy said right after the waitress walked away after taking their orders. 

“She what?” Jon asked incredulously. He hadn’t heard that part, just that there were some fireworks at the shower.

“She slapped Abby.”

“You’re fucking kidding, right? Why did she do that?”

“Well, it seems that my wife has a problem knowing when to keep her mouth shut.”

“Abby?” Jon mocked. “No.”

Sharpy rolled his eyes and Duncs and Seabs chuckled. It was no secret that Abby Sharp had no problem speaking her mind.

“Right.” Sharpy continued. “Anyway, we go to this party. Woohoo, we’re all so fucking excited we can’t stand it. And the whole time, Abby keeps eyeing up Brooklyn. I can see her brain working. I know it’s not going to be good.”

“She goes around talking to all the other wags and stuff. Whispering this and that. And well, Dayna is the one who finally has enough and confronts Brooklyn.” Brent says.

“Confronts?” Jon looks puzzled. “About what?”

“Well, seems that Abby thinks Brooklyn is a lot further along in this pregnancy than she says. That, or she’s having twins.” Pat says.

“Huh?”

“The baby isn’t due until July. If Peeks is telling the truth that they didn’t sleep together until the end of October. That makes her six months or so preggers. But, Abby says she’s huge. At least eight months along. Especially given someone her size, body size. She’s huge.”

“So maybe it’s twins.” Jon reasons, even though he’s been thinking the same thing as Abby from the beginning.

“Maybe so. Anyway, Abby goes around asking all the others what they think and Brooklyn gets wind of it.”

“Yeah, but it was Dayna that actually said it out loud.” Brent cuts in.

“To Brooklyn?” Jon asks.

“Yep. She comes right out and says it to Brooklyn that there’s no way she’s only six months along. And, when Brooklyn denies it, Dayna says, well Abby says and Abby should know and…” Pat explains.

“And Brooklyn storms over to Abby and bam, right across the kisser.” Duncs slaps at the air to show Jon just how it happened. “Smack!”

“Holy shit.” Jon gasped. “What did Patrick do?”

“Me?”

“No, I mean Peeks.”

“Nothing.” Pat shook his head slowly side-to-side. “Not a god damn thing. He just stood there.”

“Brooklyn told Abby to mind her own fucking business and then stormed out of the room. Peeks just kind of apologized and asked everyone to show themselves out, then followed her.”

“That…” Jon paused, “that’s not like Peeks.”

“Nope. It’s also not like you two to not be talking to each other.” Duncs told him. “What’s goin’ on Tazer?”

“Nothing.” Jon shrugged. “Pat has his life and I have mine. That’s all. We’ve just, um, gone different ways.”

“Gone different ways?” Duncs said questioningly. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“He’s gonna be a father. He’s getting married at some point. He’s gone off on his new life.” Jon stated, then he grew quiet for a minute before saying softly, “and I’m not a part of it.”

Jon fidgeted with his silverware, straightening the place setting. He looked down at the plate, avoiding eye contact with the others.

“Something happen between you two?” Seabs asked. He looked at Sharpy and Duncs, clearly concerned about his Captain’s sudden change in demeanor. 

“No.” Jon whispered. “Just leave it alone, okay.”

“Jonny, if something happened, if that’s why you two aren’t talking, tell us. Maybe we can fix it.” Duncs offered. “I mean, maybe we can help.”

“No. You can’t help.” Jon looked up, his eyes glistening with the tears he was trying to hold back. “Pat’s made his choice. That’s the end of it. So, that’s that. Are we done here?”

He didn’t wait for a response. Jon pushed his chair back away from the table, stood up and walked out of the restaurant without another word.

“Wow.” Duncs whistled lowly. “That boy is in bad shape.”

“I think,” Sharpy started, then stopped.

“You think what? Did they hook-up?” Seabs asked. “I mean, I know Peeks says he’s not, but…”

“I think Jonny got his heart broken.” Sharpy took out his phone and sent a text message. “Which means we need to talk to the one that broke it.”

Duncs leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Guess that means we’re waiting until Peeks gets here.”

“Damn straight.” Sharpy nodded. “We’re gonna fix this.”


	14. It's not me... it's you

They ended up going six games against Nashville. Jon was glad that he had the playoffs to distract him from what was going on in his life off the ice. 

Patrick hadn’t gone to meet Sharpy, Duncs, and Seabs that day when they’d confronted Jon about the silence between Patrick and him. Patrick wouldn’t say any more than what Jon was saying. Nothing was wrong. Let it go. People change. Different lives.

The team didn’t buy it for a minute.

The problem was, they were winning despite the rift between the Captain and his winger. Whatever was going on wasn’t hurting their play on the ice. For that reason alone, they didn’t push the issue with Patrick and Jon. They should have.

In the second round, the Hawks won the first two games against Minnesota. On May 4th, they flew out to Minneapolis – Saint Paul for games three and four. 

They had no sooner gotten into their hotel rooms when Patrick knocked on the adjoining door to Jon’s room. 

“Who is it?” Jon asked in a sing-song voice.

“Open up, Jonny. Please.” 

There was a thud against the door that Jon took for Patrick’s head hitting it.

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“That’s not a good reason.” 

Jon strode over to the door, slowly undid the latch and opened it. Patrick stood with his head down, scuffing his foot on the carpet. He looked up at Jon with the saddest eyes Jon had ever seen.

“Peeks? You okay?”

“I miss you.”

Jon stepped back. 

“I don’t care.”

He closed the door in Patrick’s face.

“Please, Jonny. Can we just talk?”

There was a thud against the door again.

“Keep that up, you’ll give yourself a concussion.”

“You speak from experience?” 

Thud. 

“Open the door then. You don’t want to be responsible for me getting hurt and not playing.” 

Thud. 

“Please.” 

Thud.

Jon pulled the door open.

“Jesus, Patrick, stop it. And you’d be responsible. Not me.”

Patrick looked up at him again. Damn those blue eyes. Damn Patrick for fluttering his eyelashes at him. Damn him for being so weak.

“Come in.” Jon huffed and turned around. He walked over and sat down on the edge of the far bed. Patrick followed him and sat down on the edge of the other bed. 

Patrick leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, he laced his fingers together and nervously rubbed at the palm of one hand with the thumb of the other. After he had sat there several minutes without saying anything, Jon reached out and covered Patrick’s hands with his own.

“Just talk to me, Peeks.”

“I, uh, I thought this would be…” Patrick sighed deeply, “I don’t know why I’d think it would be easy.”

Jon waited, just holding Patrick’s hands steady.

“What happened, um, what happened in St. Louis, it was, I, um, it was a mistake.”

Jon jerked his hands back, his back straightening, his muscles tensing.

“That’s what’s hard to tell me? That I was a mistake?”

“Huh, no, I mean, yes, I mean, ah fuck it. No, Jon, you weren’t a mistake. I made a mistake.”

“Oh, that’s different?”

“Well, yeah. I, god, I…” Patrick finally looked up. He looked scared to death.

“Explain that to me, will ya, Peeks. You made a mistake, but I wasn’t the mistake. And I thought St. Louis never happened, remember. Never happened. One time deal. Then you show up in my room drunk and expect it to happen again. What, making a mistake once wasn’t enough for you? Gotta try it out twice just to make sure?” Jon snapped at Patrick.

Patrick hung his head down, slowly nodding. Jon thought for a minute Patrick was going to start crying.

“I’m sorry, Jonny.” Patrick said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Jon asked curtly. “Making me think that you cared? That maybe you…”

“Loved you?” Patrick said it barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“That I’m maybe not as not gay as I say I am?” Patrick said louder, straightening to look directly at Jon.

“Ya think?” Jon said mockingly. “I don’t get it, Patrick. All this time. You’ve known who I am, how I feel about… about you. Yet you tell me over and over again you aren’t gay. Well, actually, you keep making it a joke about how I’m not your type.”

“Yeah, um, you are.” Patrick said softly.

“What was that?”

“I said, yeah, you, um, you are my type.”

Jon sat there not saying a word, stunned at Patrick’s admission.

“Jon?” Patrick looked up at him again. “Say something.”

“I don’t know what to say, Patrick. It’s a little late for true confessions now.”

“You hate me, don’t you?”

Jon sighed. Patrick looked so lost, so small, sitting across from him. He wanted to go to him, to sit next to him, to put his arm around Patrick. To hold him and make things right between them.

“I don’t hate you. I’m mad at you, but I don’t hate you.” Jon fought down his instincts and stayed on his bed. “I could never hate you.”

They sat there, silent, for several minutes before Patrick spoke again.

“You heard what happened at the baby shower?”

“I heard. Why didn’t you do anything about it? You just let her slap Abby? Sharpy and Abby are family.”

“She’s gonna be my family, too. What was I supposed to do?”

“What’s she got on you, Peeks? She has to have something. Why else would you stay with a bitch like that, let her come between you and your friends?”

“Nice, Jonny, call my fiancée a bitch.”

“Does she know you’re gay? Is that it?”

Patrick gave Jon an evil look. “I’m not gay.”

“Right. Sorry. Does Brooklyn know you aren’t as straight as you act? Is she holding that over you? Threatening you?”

“What the hell? Why would you think that? Can’t you just be happy that I found someone? That I’m getting married? Or, are you jealous? Jealous of her? She’s getting what you can’t.”

“Where in the hell did… how did this all change from you telling me you made a mistake with me, to you telling me you’re gay… don’t try and protest, Peeks… you’re fucking gay… or bi.. or whatever the fuck you want to tell yourself…” Jon held his hand up to stop Patrick from arguing, “to you accusing me of being jealous of that bitch. You’re the one who’s changed since she came into your life, Pat. You’re the one who’s acting like she has your balls in a jar on the shelf. I’ve never know you to cower to anyone, so what am I supposed to think? She has to have something that you are trying to protect. Has to be that you’re gay.”

“No.” Patrick huffed. “It’s not about me. It’s about…”

“Who then?”

“You.”


	15. Truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for staying with me...

“Me?”

Patrick nodded slowly. He started rocking his body back and forth, unable to sit still because of his nerves. 

“What does she think she has on me?” Jon asked skeptically. “I barely know her. I’ve barely been around her for more than a few minutes. Seriously? She has something on me?”

“Uh huh.” Patrick said. “She’s threatening to tell everyone you’re gay.”

Jon laughed. He slapped his hands on his thighs, leaned forward, and laughed.

“It’s not funny, Jon. She could hurt your career.”

“Oh my god, Pat. That’s what she has? That I’m gay. That has to be the worst kept secret on the Hawks. Everybody already knows. My family knows. I think it may actually be the worst kept secret in the league.” Jon laughed so hard he snorted.

“Yeah, but the press don’t know. The fans don’t know.”

“I don’t care if they do, Pat. What’s the worse that could happen?”

Patrick stared at Jon like that was the dumbest question he could possibly ask. 

“Your career? Jesus, Jon, you can’t be openly gay in this league. Hell, you can’t even be in the closet and not get shit from guys. And the press, god, they’d have a field day with it and there’d be all kinds of talk and wondering who else on the team is gay. It’d be a shitshow.”

“So?” Jon said casually, but he knew exactly what Patrick meant. They would think Patrick was gay because he hung out with Jon, because they’d been roommates on the road for so long.

“Jon. Be serious.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Peeks. If that’s what’s keeping you with Brooklyn, then I feel sorry for you.”

“She’s having a kid, too.” Patrick said defensively. 

“Are you sure it’s yours?”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, how do I know. You said you aren’t really not gay, so maybe you didn’t fuck her. Maybe it’s not your kid at all.” Jon almost laughed until he read Patrick’s expression. “Oh. My. God. It’s not your kid.”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, fuck.” Patrick looked down. He needed to avoid Jon’s intense scrutiny. “I mean, no, you’re wrong. Yes, it’s mine.”

“Peeks?” Jon leaned forward and tried to get low enough that Patrick would have to look at him. “Truth.”

Fuck. 

Jon watched as Patrick stopped rocking. Patrick’s face turned ghostly white and he tipped his head down, staring at the floor.

“I’m trying to protect you, Jonny. I fucked up, made a mistake, and it’s gonna hurt you.”

“So again, I was where you fucked up? Okay. Let’s go with that. How did she find out about me, then? Did she see us together that night? Kinda hard since she was in Chicago and we were in St. Louis?” Jon sat back up. 

“She, um, well you said it, it’s the worst kept secret on the team.”

“On the team. Okay, I did say that.” Jon paused for a few seconds. “Or, did you say something? Could that be the mistake you made?” 

“No. I didn’t say anything.” Patrick looked like he was trying to shrink in on himself.

“Truth?”

“Well.”

“Do you remember your engagement party?”

Patrick shook his head back and forth slowly.

“You don’t remember being shitfaced? Or me taking you up and putting you to bed?” Jon asked.

“No.”

“You told me a secret. Do you remember?”

Patrick shivered. His body started shaking. 

“What secret?” Patrick whispered.

“That I couldn’t tell somebody something.”

Patrick swallowed hard several times, trying to fight down his emotions.

“You said it earlier, too. You thought I didn’t hear you.”

“I love you.” Patrick said, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

“What’s that?”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said.” Jon paused for a second. “Did you mean it? Or were you just drunk enough to screw with me? Cause, these mixed signals the last few months have really been…”

“I love you.” Patrick stated again, cutting Jon off mid-sentence. “I have for a long time.”

“Wow.” Jon stood up and walked to the window. He stood there looking out over the city. Quiet.

“Jonny?” Patrick said softly, hesitantly, unsure of Jon’s silence.

“You told her that?” Jon said without turning around. “You said that and she knows you’re gay or whatever. That’s what’s going on isn’t it. It’s not about protecting me, it’s about protecting you, like I said.”

“It’s about protecting both of us.”

“I told you, I don’t need protected.” Jon turned around. “Not from her.”

“Well, maybe I do.”

“Is she blackmailing you? Is that what’s going on? She’s gonna expose your little lie.”

“You don’t get it, do you? I can’t be gay. I can’t. My family. Hockey. I’d fucking lose everything, Jon.”

“No, not everything.”

“Huh? Yeah, my life would be over.”

“You would still have me. You’d still have the guys. Sharpy, Seabs, Duncs, Crow. They’re not gonna abandon you. The Hawks wouldn’t abandon you. They haven’t thrown me out, yet.”

“That’s cause it’s not public. You really think if you were an openly gay player that you’d still be playing in this league?”

“You’d maybe lose your family, but, if they can’t accept you, is that a big loss?” Jon continued, ignoring Patrick.

“They’re my family, Jon.”

“And, let me see.” Jon walked over and sat down next to Patrick. “You’d be free of her.”

“That’s not gonna happen. I can’t… I just can’t, Jonny.”

“So,” Jon draped an arm over Patrick’s shoulders, “we need to figure out what you can do.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all this. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been to you. You must fucking hate me.”

Jon pulled Patrick over so Patrick could rest his head on Jon’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Peeks. Yeah, you fucked up. Yeah, this is gonna be a shitshow. But.” He lightly kissed the top of Patrick’s head. “I love you, anyway.”


	16. Oh... boy...

Jon felt better than he had in months. Everything was going to be okay now. 

Patrick loved him.

They would tell their friends about Brooklyn’s scheme. Sharpy, Duncs, Seabs, Crow and the rest of the team would help them. They’d have the boys’ support. They could go to Joel and Stan. The Hawks management would help them. Brooklyn was about to get a rude awakening if she thought she could blackmail Jon, through Patrick, and get away with it. She’d never want to go up against the Hawks legal team.

Jon thought about going to the police. Surely that would make Brooklyn back down. Maybe just the threat of getting the police involved would be enough. She could just go away and stay out of Patrick’s life or she could go to jail. That worked for Jon.

It was going to be okay now.

Patrick loved him.

Patrick had said it. He’d admitted he loved Jon. It had taken a lot of years, but Jon finally had the truth. He had always known deep down in his heart that Patrick wasn’t being completely honest when he told Jon that Jon wasn’t his type. They could have a future. Jon had hope. They’d gotten past the biggest hurdle. Now, they just needed to deal with Brooklyn.

His optimism didn’t last long.

“No.” Patrick huffed. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“We can’t tell anyone, Jonny. Nobody. Look, I’ll deal with this.” Patrick snapped at him. “We can’t tell anybody.”

“Peeks, they’re our friends, our family.”

“They’re not our family, Jon. And my family can’t find out about this. None of it.”

“You mean about me.” It was Jon’s turn to give an angry huff.

Jon’s good feeling, his high hopes had lasted all of 12 days. Not even two weeks.

They’d swept Minnesota in four games. That gave them some time off to regroup and rest before moving on to the Conference Championship against the Anaheim Ducks. Things had been better over those days. He and Patrick had seemingly been back to normal, hanging out at practice, talking on the phone more. It hadn’t been overly concerning that Patrick kept putting off talking to anyone. He had kept saying that they would do it, just not yet. Patrick had kept playing the wait and see game. Wait and see if we beat Minnesota. Wait and see if we get to the final. Wait and see. That played into Jon’s longing for this to all be okay.

On the 15th they flew to Anaheim to give themselves a day to practice and adjust to the time change before the next round started on the 17th. Everything was fine. They sat next to each other on the flight. They spent the night together in Jon’s room. They practiced the next day. Then something happened and Patrick suddenly was back at square one.

“Peeks, I don’t get it. You’re saying never? We can’t tell anyone ever? You’re just gonna let her do this? Spend the rest of your life living a lie?”

“It’s not a lie.”

“What the fuck? It’s not?” Jon retorted harshly. “What happened? What happened between this morning and now?”

“Brooklyn’s having the baby.” Patrick stated stoically.

“What?”

“Brooklyn’s having the baby. She’s in labor.”

Jon whistled lowly. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Patrick said defensively.

“Well, I mean, it’s what, two months early? That’s gonna be rough.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s… thanks.” Patrick nodded slowly, sounding a bit calmer. “I’m gonna go pack my stuff and head home. Stan’s letting me use his plane.”

“You’re gonna miss our games?” Jon looked stunned, then he read the pissed look on Patrick’s face. “Sorry. That wasn’t…”

“No, it wasn’t.” Patrick snapped. “She’s having my kid Jon, where the hell should I be?”

“I know. I’m sorry, Pat.”

“Whatever. Mom’s so excited, said nothing is more important than her grandchild. Then she scolded me about not being married yet. That’s why Jon. That’s why we can’t ever, why I can’t ever let anyone know. They’re all on their way to Chicago. They weren’t gonna come unless we made the final, but, well, they’re coming now.”

Jon stood there, feeling his world falling away. Again. He felt his knees going weak. He sat down hurriedly on the edge of the bed.

“I’m gonna tell Brooklyn we’re getting married. As soon as we’re out of the playoffs.”

Jon had been staring at the floor, he looked up, shooting daggers at Patrick.

“Whenever that is. When either we’re out or we win. Okay. Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re going to marry that bitch? Still? After… after…” Jon clenched his teeth tightly, the muscle along his jaw twitching. 

Patrick took in the strained tone of Jon’s voice, the anger on his face as his cheeks flushed red, the tautness of his features. He started to say something, but all that came out was a soft ‘oh’. Jon wasn’t mad about him jinxing them. 

“Get out.” Jon snapped. “Just get out. Go.”

Patrick turned without saying a word and left.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon rolled over and picked up his phone that was chirping. He looked at the time before he opened his messages, 5:38 am.

_I’m a dad!_

_born at 5:20 our time_

_it’s a boy!_

_Patrick Timothy Kane III_

Jon looked at the text messages. A second later his phone chirped again, and a picture came through. Jon hesitated but opened it anyway. It was of Patrick holding the baby and smiling. Jon stared at it. 

“Fuck.” He swore under his breath.

The baby in the picture looked to be a happy, healthy baby boy. A full-term baby boy. He typed out a message.

 _I don’t know._ Came back the short answer. 

_Like hell you don’t!_ Jon sent back.

_7 lbs 4 oz 19 inches_

_don’t even go there Jon_

_I mean it! It’s my kid. Let it go._

Jon didn’t send a response. He couldn’t. The baby was obviously full-term and Patrick was still going to deny that it wasn’t his. Jon was numb. 

His phone chirped again. This time it was Sharpy.

_Abby says there’s no way that baby is two months premature… Peeks can’t be the father… WTF is going on?_

_You have to ask Patrick_ Jon sent back, then he turned his phone off.


	17. Maman Will Know What To Do

They were going to the final. It took them seven games to get past Anaheim, but they did it. They were going to be playing for their third Stanley Cup. This was supposed to be the best time of year for hockey players. The time of year when all the sacrifices and hard work from the season was finally paying off. The Cup was in sight, within their grasp.

For Jon, however, one day dragged into the next.

Get up. Go to work. Go home.

Get up. Go to work. Go home.

That’s what his life had been the last two weeks, ever since it was born.

It.

Jon couldn’t bring himself to call it by name. Patrick was calling it PK3. Jon had made the mistake of asking him if that meant that Subban was the daddy. Yeah. Big mistake. Patrick had stopped talking to him.

It wasn’t like he was seeing that much of Patrick anyway. Pat was spending even less time than Jon around the team. His whole life had become wrapped up in this baby and making his family happy. 

The only time Jon had any interaction with Patrick’s family, Donna had bombarded him with pictures of her grandson. Even Pat’s sisters were fawning over it, and Brooklyn, waiting on her hand and foot.

Jon wanted to puke.

Most of the guys shrugged it off, saying that it was Patrick’s life he could ruin it if he wanted. Sharpy had tried to talk to Patrick. That hadn’t gone well. Sharpy grilled Patrick about Brooklyn and the baby. Then he’d gotten really pissed when Patrick told him that yes, he had put his name on the birth certificate.

“Are you fucking nuts, Peeks?” Sharpy had yelled. “How could you be so stupid?”

And with those words, Sharpy had evidently crossed the same line as Jon. Patrick had stopped talking to him, too.

What Jon hated the most about all this was how happy Patrick looked. It was as if nothing had happened between them. It was as if Patrick hadn’t sat in Jon’s hotel room in tears, telling Jon how Brooklyn was blackmailing him. It was as if Patrick had never said he loved Jon.

That’s what hurt the most.

Jon thought he was doing a good job of hiding his feelings. His teammates let him think that. Naturally, his mother didn’t.

“You look terrible.” Andrée hugged her oldest son and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Something is wrong.”

“Nothing, Maman.” Jon turned to hug his dad and brother, too. “Just tired. Been a long season.”

“That’s a good thing.” His father joked.

“Yes. It’s a good thing.” Jon sighed heavily, then put on his best happy face. “I just meant that we only got back this morning. I’m still tired from the game, the flight, just everything. I’m glad you’re here, though, that’s a good thing, too.”

Jon was picking them up at O’Hare. They had flown in the day after the Hawks beat the Ducks in game seven. Jon had only gotten back to Chicago that morning himself, so he wasn’t exactly lying by saying he was just tired. They stored their luggage in the trunk of his car and headed home. It wasn’t a quiet ride, all of his family chatting away, filling him in on all the latest family news, but at least Jon didn’t have to talk. He sat, listening, well, tuning it all out, and mindlessly drove.

“So have you met Patrick’s baby?” David asked innocently. “Jon?”

“Huh?”

“Kaner’s kid. You the proud Uncle Jonny? Spoiling him rotten?”

Andrée, sitting in the backseat directly behind Jon, saw him tense. His back straightened. His hands clenched the wheel tighter. His face flushed. 

“His family’s here. I haven’t seen much of Pat.” Jon answered

“Yeah, well Uncle David is gonna spoil him. Probably as close to a nephew as I’m gonna get with your dating record..”

Andrée watched the tension drain away and Jon melt into the seat deflated. She immediately changed the subject and got David off of Patrick. Jon gave her an appreciative glance in the mirror.

When they got to Jon’s place, they carried their luggage in and had a light lunch. Bryan and David settled in on the couch to watch TV while Jon and Andrée did the few dishes they had used. She had watched her son pine for Patrick Kane long enough to know exactly what was bothering him. She waited until they were alone to bring it up.

“So, Patrick has a child. That’s nice isn’t it, honey? You have to be happy for him.”

She saw the same reaction she had in the car, Jon bristled at the mention of Patrick and the baby.

“You’re not happy for him?” She acted surprised. When Jon turned to look at her, she gave him her all-knowing mom smile.

Jon shrugged dejectedly and walked over to sit down at the kitchen table. Andrée followed him and sat down as well.

“Maman…”

“Tell me what’s bothering you about it? I know you care for Patrick.” She reached across the table and Jon took her hand. “I know you want it to be more, but honey, you’ve known that Patrick doesn’t feel the same way. You know he’s not gay. I’ve seen you want a lot of things you couldn’t have, a lot of boys. You’ve gotten over them. Maybe it’s time that you move past this thing for Patrick.”

“Patrick loves me.” Jon stared straight down at the table. 

“Well, I’m sure he does. You two are like brothers…”

“No. I mean, Patrick loves me. He said so. And we, well, we…”

“Oh.” Andrée whispered, then it truly hit her what Jon was saying. “Oh! Oh, Jonathan.”

“Yeah.” Jon final looked up, tears rimming his eyes.

“Oh, honey. When? Why? But?”

“It’s a long and complicated.”

“I’m going to be here for a while.” She said warmly, softly, motherly and Jon felt his fears slip away. This was his mother, his Maman, the one person in the whole world who had and would always love him completely unconditionally. If he couldn’t tell anyone else for fear of what would happen, fear of the truth getting out, he could be sure it would be safe with her.

Jon took a deep breath and sat up straight. He let it out slowly and tried to calm his nerves. Then, he started at the beginning and told his mother all that he knew about Patrick and Brooklyn.


	18. Help

“What do you want Patrick to do?”

Jon sat there for several minutes, pondering his mother’s question. What did he want Patrick to do?

“He said he loves me, Maman. I guess, I don’t know, I guess I’d just like him to act like it.”

“How?”

Jon tipped his head and gave his mother the puzzled-puppy look. Then, he straightened and gave her the are you kidding me look. Hadn’t he just poured his heart out to her and told her that he wanted Patrick to be a part of his life. To be with him and not Brooklyn. 

“Jonathan, you know exactly what I mean, don’t look at me like that. You expect him to come out to the world and make this bold statement about how he is bisexual and in love with his teammate.”

“Well… yeah.”

“That is never going to happen. You know that. That’s what hurts so bad.”

“Why? Why can’t he just… fuck… sorry, I mean… fudge…” Jon buried his face in his hands. “Why?”

“I’ve asked myself that a lot over the years. Why? Why can’t you find a nice gay boy to be with instead of always falling for the boys you can’t have.” Andrée smiled at him affectionately. “I’ve ridden this rollercoaster for years.”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to describe this whole shitshow. A rollercoaster. Just when I think things are going to be going up, the bottom drops out. Wait, no, it’s not a rollercoaster. Patrick is deliberately pulling the rug out from under us. He leads me on and then… wham.”

“Patrick has never led you on. You’ve known deep down that he was someone you couldn’t have, no matter what. You may have moments, but in the end, it is not something that you can have.”

“But he is someone I could have. We have… we… you know. He’s not gay but he is into guys, so why, why couldn’t we be together.”

“Because you are not Patrick Kane.”

“Huh?”

“Do you remember when you first told us you were gay? We said that it wasn’t an issue for us. We love you no matter what.”

Jon nodded slowly. “And you have.”

“Well, as far as you have seen we have. Your father had a very hard time with it. For the longest time he hoped you would find a nice girl and suddenly fall in love with her and that would be that.”

“He never…”

“He never said that to you. He never let you know. He loved you. You didn’t have to worry about losing your family.”

“Patrick’s family are assholes. I don’t get it. If they’d disown him just because…”

“Patrick was also raised in a very strict Catholic house, Jonathan. He would lose more than just his family. But, the fear of losing his family should be the only thing that matters, really. You can think they are assholes. But Patrick loves them. You know he adores his sisters. He’d be giving up a big piece of his life.”

“For me, for us, I mean, he’d have you guys. He’d have a family still.”

“But not his family.” 

Jon sighed heavily.

“Look, honey. He was raised to believe that being gay was a sin, a mortal sin. He’d risk his family, his church, his soul, if any of them knew that he was attracted to men in any way, shape or form. Gay, bisexual, it’s all the same to them. That is a deeply rooted fear in Patrick, I’m sure. Just because you would be okay with coming out, you can’t expect that from others. You can’t expect that from Patrick.”

“So I let this… bi… sorry… this witch blackmail him? I let him be saddled with a child that isn’t his?”

“Are you really sure about that.”

“Pretty sure.” Jon snipped. “It sure doesn’t look like a premie.”

“So if Patrick knows that and obviously other people can figure that out, wouldn’t that be his way of getting out from underneath the blackmail? Maybe she isn’t blackmailing him? Maybe that’s Patrick’s excuse so he doesn’t have to face his feelings for you? It is his, what would you call it, a safety net?”

Jon thought about that. “So, Patrick’s hiding behind this blackmail story? Maybe it’s not real?”

“Maybe, you don’t know anything for sure do you?”

“Well, no, I guess not.” Jon admitted. “But what if it’s true? What if she is threatening to out him?”

“Well, there’s that pesky thing again. So if there is a risk that something could come out about you that would ruin your whole life, or you can lie about when you slept with someone, which are you going to take? He can say that they were wrong, that she must have gotten pregnant the first time, not at Halloween.”

“But…”

“But nothing. You can’t make someone else do something just because you want it. You wouldn’t out any of your other gay friends would you?”

“No, it’s their…” Jon stopped.

“What?”

“It’s their choice.” Jon said softly. “It’s Patrick’s choice. He’s the one who has to live with the consequences.”

“Much as you love him. Much as you want to be with him. Much as you think you two could have a happy life together if he would just come out. You know that isn’t going to happen and it isn’t your choice to make.”

“But… he loves me. And I love him. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“If you make him choose between his family, his whole life, his career… and you… what do you think is going to happen?”

“He’ll hate me.” Jon sighed again. “Fuck.”

“Yes. Fuck. Love sucks, honey.”

“So, what do I do.”

“You let Patrick figure it out on his own. He will. And if it is his choice to give up all those things for you, well then it is because he really does love you.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then that is Patrick’s choice. You’ll be okay.” She got up and went to stand beside him, letting him lean into her embrace. “And, we’ll still be here for you. Always.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Because it took them seven games to get past Anaheim, the Hawks didn’t get much of a break before the start of the cup final. Jon didn’t even get a whole day off to spend with his family before the team flew to Tampa Bay. Patrick had smiled at him sheepishly as he walked down the aisle of the plane. Instead of taking his normal seat next to Patrick, Jon walked past him and went to sit with Sharpy. He put in his earbuds and stuck his nose in a book for the flight so he could ignore Patrick. 

When they got to their hotel room, Jon picked up his key and rode up in the elevator with Crow, who didn’t ask him as many questions as Sharpy had during the flight. Once in his room, he tossed his suitcase on the extra bed and started to shed his suit. He paused and looked at the door to the adjoining room.

He walked over and opened it. Patrick never opened his side.

The next day they had practice. 

Jon noticed a change in Patrick. He was quiet. Very quiet. Not at all his normal happy Showtime on the ice. He thought about talking to him, but instead, kept his distance the whole time. After practice, he watched Patrick on the bus ride back to the hotel. Patrick had his attention focused on his phone and he was texting furiously. He had looked up a couple times, glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention, then went right back to texting.

Jon watched Patrick bolt off the bus and make a beeline for the elevators.

“What’s up with Peeks?” Sharpy sidled up next to Jon by the elevators. “He was sure acting weird.”

“How should I know.” Jon snapped. “I’m not his keeper.”

“Geez, Toes. Easy boy. I didn’t mean… “ Sharpy stopped. He glared at Jon. “No, I did mean. Come with me.”

The elevator doors opened and Sharpy dragged Jon into the car. He turned and held up his hand, stopping any of the other guys from joining them.

“Private car, boys. Need a minute alone with the Cap.”

Jon started to protest.

“Shut up.” Sharpy ordered as the doors closed. “Okay. You’re the fucking captain. You’re his fucking friend. His best friend. Don’t look at me like that Toes. I know how you feel about him, remember. So what the fuck is going on? Something’s bothering him. If for no other reason than you’re the captain and one of your team is upset…”

“I don’t know what’s wrong. He hasn’t been talking to me. At all…” Jon stated coldly, non-emotionally. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“He hasn’t been talking to me, either. Abby tried. She sent a nice baby gift, but nothing. I think he’s pissed at us still.”

“Ya think?” Jon said sarcastically. “I didn’t know that.”

“Knock off the attitude with me. Look, this is ridiculous. One of us needs to find out what’s wrong.” Sharpy snapped. “Captain.”

“Fuck.” Jon looked like Patrick wasn’t the only one pissed at Sharpy now. “Whatever. I opened my door, he hasn’t made an effort.”

“You make the fucking effort. Captain.” 

“Fuck.”

The door opened on their floor and they got out. 

“I mean it Jon. Make amends. Bend over backwards to be nice about the baby. I’m gonna text him later and ask him to come see me. We need to put this whole Brooklyn and baby thing on the back burner if that’s what’s wrong. That or it’s gonna fuck with his game and that’s gonna hurt the team. Got it.” Then he added again, for emphasis. “Captain.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Jon sighed. He knew Sharpy was right. 

Sharpy dropped Jon off at his room with a final, ‘get it done, captain’ as Jon opened the door. Jon stepped into the room. He was looking down at his phone getting ready to text Patrick and didn’t notice that both adjoining doors were open as he walked by.

“Jonny.”

The sound of Patrick voice startled Jon.

Patrick was sitting on the edge of Jon’s bed, waiting.

“I need help.”


	19. A Light at the End of the Tunnel?

“Now what, Peeks?” Jon said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“They’re driving me crazy.” He waved his phone at Jon. “Non-fucking stop.”

Just say it, Jon thought to himself. Just tell him how you feel.

“My mother, god love her, has a new obsession. And now…. Fucking hell… she’s demanding that we move the wedding up.” Patrick continued, sounding most irritated. 

Jon paused, wonder if the rollercoaster was on a climb again. Dare he get his hopes up one more time?

“To when?”

“She’s having a cow about her grandson being a bastard. Says we need to get married right now, like when we get back to Chicago. She’s contacting a JP. Says that a big wedding can wait if that’s what Brooklyn really wants, but she wants us married like yesterday.” 

“And? That’s a problem?”

“Well… yeah.” Patrick looked confused.

“Why? You’re going to marry her anyway, right? So what difference does it make if you have a civil service now and then a big wedding or wedding reception later?”

“It does, okay… it… it fucks up everything.”

“I think everything’s pretty well fucked up already, Peeks.” Jon smiled wryly. “You seem to have done a good job of that.”

“Fuck you.”

“Truth hurt?” Jon snapped back. “I know how little you care about it.”

“Fuck you.” Patrick stood up. “I need help, Jon. Guess I came to the wrong friend.”

Patrick started to push past Jon and go back to his own room.

“You don’t have many friends left to go to, eh?”

“I have enough.”

Jon reached out and grasped Patrick’s arm, keeping him from walking away.

“I’m sorry, Peeks. But at this point, I’m not sure you really want help. You cry wolf and then… well… you know. You could have gotten out of all this, but you keep going back.”

“Whatever, Jonny.” Patrick tried to pull his arm free from Jon’s grip. “If you don’t care, that’s fine.”

Jon let go of Patrick. He sighed heavily.

As they stood there in the hotel room, Jon looking forlornly at Patrick, Patrick staring down at the floor, the silence between them grew painful. Jon expected Patrick to walk out. He expected the door to slam in his face. He expected this to be the end of their friendship.

“I care, Pat. That’s the problem. I’m always gonna care.” Jon finally said, softly, almost a whisper.

Patrick looked up. Jon didn’t expect what happened next.

In one quick move, Patrick was pressing against Jon. Patrick was leaning up, his hands on either side of Jon’s face, holding him steady. Patrick was kissing him, hot and demanding.

Jon should have stopped him. He should have pulled away. But. That little spark of hope, deep in his heart, found new life. He knew this would end badly. It was Patrick after all.

Patrick pushed Jon backwards until Jon’s legs hit the edge of the bed. They toppled over together, Patrick landing on top of Jon. He kept kissing Jon as his hands frantically tried to get under Jon’s shirt. Just as driven, Jon groped for Patrick’s shirt in an effort to get it off. Patrick dragged his hands across Jon’s chest before pulling himself away from Jon’s kisses and sitting up, straddling Jon’s legs. Patrick grabbed the hem of his shirt and started to tug it up.

That moment was the pause Jon needed for his head to clear.

Jon grasped Patrick’s wrists.

“Stop.”

“Huh?” Patrick looked confused. “Don’t you…”

“No. No, Pat. Not like this.” Jon held tight as Patrick tried to twist his wrists free.

“Like what, Jon?” Patrick sat back on Jon’s legs.

“Not like this. I told you before, Pat, I’m not gonna be some… some piece of ass. I’m not gonna do this every time you need a fix.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Really?” Jon scoffed, scowling at Patrick. “You don’t talk to me for weeks, then wham, you’re jumping on me? Literally, Pat, you jumped on me. And I’m not supposed to wonder, to think that this is just another go round on the Patrick Kane joy ride?”

“What? That… I…”

“Sputter away, Pat.” 

Patrick climbed off Jon and sat down on the other bed. He stared at Jon.

“I’m sorry, Pat.” Jon sat up. “But these past few months, holy hell, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing with Brooklyn, but I can’t keep doing this. One minute I think you hate me, the next you’re coming on to me. What’s tomorrow gonna bring? You go back to Chicago and play the good son, marry her and live unhappily ever after?”

“I don’t know, okay. I have a plan. Had a plan. My mom is fucking things up.” Patrick rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, he covered his face with his hands, mumbling something incoherent.

“You have a plan? Does it include me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna tell me what your plan is?”

“No.” Patrick sat back up. “I mean, not right now. Not until I’m sure about it.”

“But it involves me?”

“Yes.” Patrick nodded. “I don’t want to marry her, Jonny. I told you, I love you.”

“Well then, you can do something about that, Patrick. Just tell her to kiss off.”

“You know I…” Patrick frowned. “You know that’s not gonna happen.”

“Then what the hell is your plan, Pat?” Jon stood up angrily, towering over Patrick. “Ya know, never mind. Just go. When you figure it out and can tell me, I’ll be here. God knows why, but I must be some sort of masochist to put myself through this.”

Jon started to walk to the bathroom, he hesitated for a minute.

“That or I really am hopelessly in love with you.” Jon didn’t turn to look as Patrick as he said that. He simply shrugged and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Patrick waited a couple of minutes before he got up and went back to his room.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick didn’t come back to Jon’s room again during this trip to Tampa. His attitude, mood, whatever you wanted to call had changed again, though. He was all business. 

The Hawks came back in the third period to win game one. While Patrick didn’t have any points, he did lead all forwards in on ice time, racking up over 24 minutes. 

Jon half expected Patrick to show up in his room that night, but he didn’t come.

Game two didn’t go as well and the Hawks went back to Chicago with the series tied at one game each. When they left Chicago five days later, the series was still tied. 

Patrick, however, was not married to Brooklyn.

It was the night before game five that Patrick showed up in Jon’s hotel room again.

It was after a team dinner. Jon had paid attention as Patrick had hurried out ahead of him. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked to him in days, Jon half expected Patrick to be sitting in his room waiting for him again. He had to admit to himself that he was a little disappointed when Patrick wasn’t there.

He didn’t have to wait long, though.

About a half hour later, Patrick came bursting into Jon’s room, his arms full of bags of vending machine snacks. Patrick dumped them on the extra bed.

“What’s this?” Jon asked cautiously.

“I, uh, I thought we could maybe watch a movie.” Patrick said hesitantly. “And, maybe… talk?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to talk about?” Jon didn’t even look up from the book he was reading.

“I don’t care. Whatever. I just thought it would be nice, ya know, like when we won our first cup. Hang out, watch a movie, pig out on junk food.” 

Jon casually licked a finger and turned the page, still ignoring Patrick.

“So,” he said slowly, drawing out the oh, “let me guess. You secretly got married and this is your way of celebrating?”

“No.” Patrick huffed. “I got out of it.”

Jon gave a sideways glance at Patrick.

“For now.” Patrick added.

“Ah, for now, I see.” Jon nodded slowly and went back to his book. 

“I can’t tell you right now, but I have a plan, Jon. I do. And, well, fuck… can’t we just have a quiet night together, like old times? And not fight over her.”

“I don’t know, can we?” Jon smirked sarcastically. “I told you my conditions.”

Patrick huffed loudly. “Fuck.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Jon’s legs.

“I’m gonna tell my mom.” He said quietly.

“What’s that?”

“I’m… going… to… tell… my… mom.” Patrick said slowly, clearly enunciating each word.

Jon let the book he was holding fall down to his lap. He stared at Patrick, shocked.

“Seriously? You aren’t just saying that?”

“Seriously.” Patrick turned to look at him. “But after the playoffs, okay. Not until after the playoffs, cause you know what’s gonna happen. It’ll be ugly. The guys don’t need to deal with that right now.”

“Yeah, uh… yeah, right… that’s… uh… that’s a good idea, Pat.” Jon picked the book up and tossed it over onto the other bed, then he scooted over and sat next to Patrick. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I dug a fucking deep hole this time. Looks like it’s the only way to get out.”

“But?”

“Can we just watch a movie, Jon, and not talk about it anymore? I’m having a hard enough time.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… let’s uh…” Jon turned and wrapped his arms around Patrick, pulling him into a tight embrace. “It’ll be okay, Peeks. No matter what happens. It’ll be okay.”

That night, they watched some old Cary Grant movie and ate junk food. They talked about everything and anything except hockey and their current situation. It was like old times. Everything was perfect.

The next night, the Hawks beat the Lightning 2-1. They headed back to Chicago with a chance to win it all.


End file.
